


Supernatural Rewrite part 2 (s5)

by deansiris



Series: Iris' Supernatural Rewrite [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Gen, Multi, Other, Post-Season/Series 04, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:55:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 27
Words: 99,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22506643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deansiris/pseuds/deansiris
Summary: The Reader's story with the Winchesters continue now as Lucifer walks the Earth.And what exactly did Zachariah mean when he said she was someone even God can't destroy? Can someone like that even exist or is it just another one of angel's tricks to misguide the reader and the WInchesters? What does it mean to be an anchor to the Devil?
Relationships: Castiel (Supernatural)/You, Dean Winchester/You, Sam Winchester/You
Series: Iris' Supernatural Rewrite [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1424197
Comments: 35
Kudos: 53





	1. Sympathy For The Devil part 1

**Author's Note:**

> I skip some episodes where I think there isn't much diversion from canon so everything happens as the show in those episodes, just with the reader's character in the mix.  
> Everytime I skip episodes, I will be sure to mention them (with a quick description) at the start of chapters so that it's easier to keep up the continuity :)

You could feel yourself nearly being dragged across the floor when the brothers finally broke away from the almost hypnotizing scene of what was happening. The three of you headed for the doors which were your only chance at freedom. It was barely twenty feet away–but before Dean could get his hands on the circular metal handle to give you a chance at freedom, the boys stopped dead in their tracks. Your neck was cranked over your shoulder, watching as the kept growing worse, but you didn’t notice the doors slammed shut until you roughly slammed into Sam’s back. You let out a soft groan from the pain before you looked straight ahead. A shiver went down your spine as your eyes began to widen from the bolt of fear. You were trapped with no way out.  
“Guys!” You cranked your head to look at the sight again, watching for a moment as the sight unfolded. You squinted slightly when you noticed the light seemed to have gotten brighter, to the point where it almost hurt to look at. The boys tried their hardest to somehow open the door, but it was bolted shut from an inhuman force. “We need to get out of here!”  
You pressed your palms against your ears, somehow hoping it would make the noise stop, but with each passing second, the buzzing noise only seemed to be growing worse. It felt like your head was going to explode from the noise alone. But you had to close your eyes when you noticed the light was getting brighter and brighter. Seconds to you felt like hours that were slowly becoming too grueling to handle. All you remembered seeing before losing consciousness was a bright, white light.  
\+ + +  
“What the Devil is your name?”  
“Sa—S-S-Uh…S-Yo-Yosemite Sam!”  
“Yosemite Sam? Hmm, let’s see. Sam…”  
You could hear a male voice coming from somewhere, you couldn’t exactly pinpoint it. What you recognized was the name, Sam. Darkness was the only thing you could see. Ever so slowly, you began to open one of your eyes, curious to see where you had landed, but it was quickly a bad option, for you were staring at the Devil.  
The Devil you were staring at was one might expect to be greet them in they were to encounter him. The Devil you were staring at was projected from a small TV screen. He was a cartoon from the early fifties. You furrowed your brow when you slowly began to settle your hands back down to your sides, somehow realizing you were sitting in a rather comfortable chair. It seemed you were too baffled to speak as you began to slowly examine your new surroundings. You looked out from the corner of your eye to see that you were in fact inside an airplane, tuck in the middle of two ginormous and familiar bodies.  
“What the hell?”  
You tore your gaze away from the screen to stare at the man sitting at the window seat, Dean looked around the plane, unsure like you and his brother about how you got here, at least, with no physical harm done to you from what you witnessed. Sam mumbled an unsure response, confused himself from the events that were being thrown at you one after another. You leaned back in your seat and slowly placed your hands on the arms rest. Maybe this was some kind of test from Zachariah.  
“Folks, quick word from the flight deck.” The voice coming from nowhere made you jump slightly out of your skin, somehow not expecting for that to happen. “We’re just passing over IlChester, then Ellicott City, on our initial descent into Baltimore…” Dean was thrown through a loop when he heard the announcement. You heard him ask his brother if all of you were just in IlChester. You were. But you were too tense to answer him. “So if you’d like to stretch your legs, now would be a good time—”  
The sudden explosion coming from the ground below made your calming thought disappear. Your head quickly snapped forward to the window to see the convent below, the one which you had been just a few minutes ago, explode with a bright white light. Your eyes widened for a split second before your body was lurching forward in your seat when the plane suddenly was hit with a turbulence that sent everyone screaming their head off.  
You pressed the mask against your mouth and began inhaling deep breaths, somehow in the chaos around you, it was happening again.  
\+ + +  
“…And Governor O’Malley urged calm, saying it’s very unlikely an abandoned convent would be a target for terrorists, either foreign or homegrown.”  
You wrapped your arms tighter around your body as you nervously listened to the radio station from the backseat of the car you’d stolen. You and the boys weren’t on the plane anymore. In the midst of all the commotion, you were pulled out before harm could be done, and thrown directly into an empty field, without a single scratch on your body. There wasn’t even a scrap of evidence to find about what happened to the plane. It was as if nothing happened. Dean tore his gaze away from the road for a moment and examined you in the rear view mirror. It wasn’t hard for him to see that you were shaken up from everything that was going on. And listening to the regular population speculate of what was going on wasn’t exactly helping the anxiety, either.  
“Change the station.” Dean told his brother.  
“Hurricane Kinley, unexpectedly slamming into the Galveston area…”  
“…Announced a successful test of North Korean nuclear…”  
“…baffled…”  
“…Swine flu…”  
The radio clicked off for the last time, sending the car into a deep silence for a moment. You looked away from the neon numbers on the dashboard clock and out of the backseat window, hopeful the familiar sight of the open road would calm down your nerves. Sam leaned back into the passenger side of the car and let out a heavy breath, still trying to figure out what the hell was going on. He examined the interior of the car for a moment before he licked his lips. Sam opened his mouth and spoke his brother’s name in a quiet tone, but it was the only thing he could get out before being cut off.  
“Don’t. Don’t say anything. It’s okay.” Dean said, somehow managing to be calm. You didn’t know how he could do it. "We just to keep our heads down and hash this out, all right?”  
“Yeah,” Sam managed to respond in a quiet tone as you slowly nodded your head. “Okay.”  
“All right,” Dean adjusted his position at the wheel as he settled his gaze back upon the road. “Well, first things first-how did we end up on ‘Soul Plane’?”  
“Angels, maybe? I mean, you know, beaming us out of out harm’s way?” You presumed without much of a care in your voice “Well, whatever. It’s the least of our worries. We need to find Cas.”  
\+ + +  
The last place Cas was seen had been at Chuck’s house, at to say that it was more of a dump than you’d seen it before, well, that would be a major understatement. It looked like someone set off a bomb from the condition it was left in. But your attention settled on the toaster that laid abandoned on the ground, covered with splatter of blood. You didn’t know if it was Cas or Chuck’s blood.  
You and the brothers stepped inside the living room to see the destruction had ended there. You looked just in time to see a body come from the other side of the house, and before Sam could defend himself, the person went swinging card as they could at Sam’s head. You looked straight ahead to see that it was Chuck himself, standing there with a deadly plunger, which at least had to have done some harm from the loud yelp of pain Sam let out from being attacked by the thing.  
“Sam,” Chuck let out a sigh of relief to see the man standing above him, despite the dirty look he was given after what he’d done. “So…You’re okay.”  
“Well, my head hurts.” Sam remarked with a rather annoyed tone.  
“No, I mean—I mean, my—my last vision. You went, like, full-on Vader. Your body temperature was one-fifty. Your heart rate was two hundred.” Chuck said, “Your eyes were black.”  
“Your eyes went black?” Dean asked his little brother in a rather too calm of a tone.  
Sam turned around slightly in his spot on the floor to answer the man’s question “I didn’t know.” Sam said with a quiet voice.  
“Where’s Cas?” You asked.  
“He’s gone. Or dead. The archangel smote the crap out him.” Chuck hesitantly admitted. “I’m sorry.”  
“I mean,” Dean tried to be an optimist here. “Maybe he just vanished into the light or something.”  
“Oh, no. He, like, exploded.” Chuck said “Like a water balloon of chunky soup.”  
“Cas, you stupid bastard.” Dean muttered underneath his breath.  
“So, what now?“  
"I don’t know, Y/N.”  
But the petty argument that was about to disrupt between the both of you only gotten far as it started, for you had bigger problems to deal with. “Oh, crap.” Chuck’s very quiet and worried voice broke your concentration away from Dean. “I can feel them.”  
When you heard Zachariah’s voice, you winched in discomfort. “Thought we’d find you here.”  
\+ + +  
You allowed yourself a moment of annoyance at the sound of Zachariah’s voice before you turned around in your spot to face the angel. He was all too casual for your liking as he stood in the middle of the debris lying around in the kitchen. He didn’t come alone, two other angels stood behind him, quietly ready to fetch their most prized possession.  
“Play time’s over, Dean.” Zachariah said “Time to come with us.”  
“You just keep your distance, ass-hat.” Dean pointed a finger at the angel, stopping him before he could move a single inch.  
Zachariah stopped in his tracks like he was told, suddenly he didn’t seem so welcoming. “You’re upset.” Zachariah noted with a slightly confused tone, as if he wasn’t expecting this kind of reaction.  
“Yeah—a little.” Dean remarked with a sarcastic overtone, before getting to the reason why he was pissed off. “You sons of bitches jump-started judgment day!”  
“Maybe we let it happen. We didn’t start anything.” Zachariah corrected the young man. “Right, Y/N? You had a chance to stop Sammy, and you couldn’t. So let’s not quibble over who started what, Dean. Let’s just say it was all our faults and move on. ‘Cause like it or not…It’s apocalypse now. And we’re back on the same team again.”  
Dean raised his brows, “Is that so?”  
“You want to kill the Devil. We want to kill the Devil.” Zachariah said. “It’s synergy.”  
“And I’m just supposed to trust you?” Dean scoffed at the proposal. “Cram it with walnuts, ugly.”  
“This isn’t a game, son. Lucifer is powerful in ways that defy description. We need to strike now, hard and fast, Before he finds his vessel.”  
“His vessel?” Sam asked, “Lucifer needs a meat suit?”  
“He is still an angel.” You noted, keeping your voice under a whisper so Sam could only hear. "It’d be impossible for anyone to see him for his true form without getting their eyes burned out of their skull. Not to mention if he tried speaking. You wouldn’t just get the worse tinnitus of your life.”  
"Pretty and smart. Y/N knows what she’s talking about.” Zachariah remarked. He let out a light chuckle when he found your gaze lingering over to him “And when he touches down, we’re talking four horsemen, red oceans, fiery skies—the greatest hits. You can stop him, Dean. But you need our help.”  
"You listen to me, you two-faced douche,” Dean spoke up, deciding that it was time to turn the conversation around to his personal liking by showing who was really in control. “After what you did, I don’t want jack squat from you!”  
“You listen to me, boy! You think you can rebel against us? As Lucifer did?” Zachariah chuckled. Furrowing his brow, he just so happened to glance down at Dean to see there was droplets of blood coming from his jacket sleeve. “You’re bleeding.”  
“Oh, yeah. A little insurance policy in case you dicks showed up.” Dean said, letting a victorious smirk spread across his lips from the idea that you had when none of you knew what to expect. Zachariah looked at the hunter with a strange expression before the sliding double door was pulled out, showing off a familiar symbol painted in fresh human blood. You heard the angel let out a yell of protest, but before he could stop it, Dean slammed his hand against the wood. Your arms quickly stretch up to cover your eyes when you were blinded by a force of light. When the room fell into a deep silence just a few seconds after, you slowly lifted down your guard. With a heavy sigh of relief, you noticed Zachariah and his goons were gone. “Learned that from my friend Cas, you son of a bitch.”  
===  
“Here.” Sam reached a hand inside his jacket pocket and pulled out two small bags. Without a warning, your arm extended out and somehow grabbed at whatever he threw in your direction. You gave him a curious look before you opened up your palm, wondering what it was. “Hex bags. No way the angels will find us with those. Demons, either. For that matter.”  
“Hmm. Good thinking, Sammy.” You remarked. You examined the hex bag for a moment before placing it down on the table for safekeeping. “Where’d you get it?”  
"Speaking of, how you doing?” Dean curiously asked. “Are you jonesing for another hit of bitch blood or what?”  
“It’s weird. Uh, tell you the truth, I’m fine. No, shakes, no fever.” Sam said, “It’s like whoever put me on that plane cleaned me right up.”  
“Supernatural methadone.” You said, giving the younger man another small smile, trying to make light of the situation.  
“So, (y/n), wanna share what happened to you the last day and how you knew that Lilith was the last seal?” Dean asked you, a hint of suspicion still in his tone.  
“Well, we were in Bobby’s place one second and next I was in this big room… with Zachariah and Cas. He said he wanted to keep me safe till it was time for the action and then he…”  
“He told you the truth? That he never intended on stopping it ever?”  
“He did.”  
“Then how’d you end up outside the convent?” Sam inserted himself in the conversation.  
“It must be him. I remember talking to him about Lucifer and he said that I needed to be there to welcome him.”  
“Welcome him?” Dean’s eyebrows shot up in confusion, “Why you?”  
“He told me this story. About Lucifer. That God wanted to kill him but he couldn’t because he’d made an anchor.”  
“Now what the hell is an anchor?”  
“AN anchor is something that kept him bind with heaven and God. And that that anchor had to be something that even God couldn’t destroy.”  
“Wha- wait. Are you saying that there’s something that exists that even God can’t destroy?” Sam asked with a baffled expression. “Well, did he tell you what it is?”  
There was a desperate look on both their faces as their eyes bore into your skull, waiting to hear your answer. “He, uh—”  
“He what?”  
“He said it’s me.”  
Your words left the motel room drop to dead silence for a couple of minutes. It was not something that easy to process, you weren’t even sure if you’d processed it either.  
“Wait, hold on.” Dean was the one to break the silence. He started speaking, as he slowly raised from the chair he was occupying. “Are you trying to tell me you’re some sort of indestructible ‘anchor’ of Lucifer who can’t be killed? Even by freaking God with the capital G upstairs?”  
“No- no. No! Wait, exactly. That’s what I’m trying to say. It can’t be true.” You said, running a palm to your face.  
“Why not?”  
“Because I know myself. I mean, I feel pain… I- I get hurt. Badly hurt. You’ve seen that yourself. I’m not indestructible.”  
“But then, why would Zachariah say that?”  
“I don’t know.” You shrugged slightly, “There must be some other meaning behind that.”  
“Yeah, maybe.” Dean muttered, before turning back to the task at hand. “All right. So we just to to find…The Devil.”  
\+ + +  
While there wasn’t much to do in the motel room, you decided to go through any and all lore you could find on Lucifer. Ever since he’d been let free, there was a weight on your soul, a thick feeling that had been following you everywhere. The feeling had made it difficult for you to breathe. You were dismissing the feeling by regarding it as just stress, but you had a feeling that it was.  
You tore your gaze away from the screen long enough to realize there was somebody at the door. Peering down into the peephole, Sam noticed it was a young woman in her early twenties, she seemed innocent enough. Sam unlocked the door before cautiously twisting the door handle, he cracked open the door just a few inches to stare at the stranger. The woman cranked her neck upwards to stare at him, and with widening eyes, she let out a gasp, like she was surprised to be greeted by him. Sam raised his brows, wondering what the hell was going on with her.  
“You okay, lady?” Sam asked, silently wondering if she would stop staring at him like this.  
“Sam, is it really you?” The stranger asked him, her voice breaking in hopefulness. Sam was nothing but confused at what was happening. He looked over his shoulder for just one second, wondering if you or Dean happened to know this woman, but his head immediately snapped forward when he felt something press against his chest. He glanced down to see the woman had took it upon herself to inappropriately touch him without warning. Her lips stretched into a wobbly grin when she felt muscle he’d gained from the few decades of hunting. “And you’re so firm.”  
“Do I know you?” Sam cautiously asked.  
“No. But I know you. You’re Sam Winchester. And you,” The woman finally drew her hand away from Sam when she peered over his body. Suddenly it was like she was back into her fit again, with bright eyes and a grin, she stared at you with absolute wonder. “You’re the Y/N Y/L/N! You’re my idol. And you’re so pretty in person. Yes I know you’re not in the books yet but I managed to read a bit of the unpublished stuff. Just—oh my God.” Your face scrunched in confusion from what the woman was rambling on about, Sam shrugged his shoulders when you wondered what was going on with her. The woman finally looked away from you to stare at her, but her reaction wasn’t the same as yours and Sam’s when she took a moment to inspect Dean. “You…are not what I pictured.”  
You raised your brows, "Who are you?”  
“Oh! I’m Becky. I read all about you guys.” She greeted you with another bright smile, deciding to take it upon herself to walk into the motel room, just inviting herself in.  
“Anyway, Mr. Edlund told me where you were.”  
“Chuck?” Dean asked, using the author’s real name.  
Becky nodded her head as Sam shut the door, giving the four of you some privacy. “He’s got a message, but he’s being watched. Angels.” She explained. Her lips stretched into a smile, like this was all some adventure she was a part of, and not real life. “Nice change-up to the mythology, by the way. The demon stuff was getting kind of old.”  
“This conversation is getting old,” Dean hissed at her with annoyance. You let out a quiet sigh and rubbed your aching head.  
“Sorry. What’s the message?”  
“He had a vision. 'The Michael sword is on Earth. The angels lost it.’“Becky recited word for word what Chuck had told her to say. "In a castle on a hill made of forty-two dogs.”  
You glanced over at the brothers, wondering if they were understanding what she was trying to say. “Are,” Sam looked away from you and back to Becky. “You sure you got that right?”  
“It doesn’t make sense, but that’s what he said to me.” Becky explained, but you could see her attention was slipping away from the conversation when she began to take slow steps forward to Sam. “I memorized every word. For you.”  
“Uh,” Sam cleared his throat and looked over at his brother, hopeful Dean would lore Beck away from him. But the man just stood there with his hands crossed over his chest, slightly amused at the torture he was being put under. “Becky, c—uh, can you…quit touching me?”  
Becky shook her head and verbally mumbled a no, she ignored the man’s pleads as she continued to lose herself in this one in a lifetime opportunity. “Okay!” You rescued the man by stepping forward and grabbing Becky by the wrist, leading her to the door. “It was great to meet you, Becky. You’ve been a great help.”  
“Oh, it was my pleasure—”  
You gave her a friendly smile when she stood out in the hallway, but before she could finish her sentence, you slammed the door right on the poor woman’s face.


	2. Sympathy For The Devil part 2

\+ + +  
“Y’all had me worried sick.” Bobby started off the lecture like any father figure would. He patted you on the back before giving each of the brothers a hug. “But it’s good to see you kids all in one piece.”  
Dean shut the door and bolted it shut after making sure the hallway was clear of any strange faces that could pose a threat. “You weren’t followed, were you?” Dean cautiously asked.  
“You mean, by angels, demons or Sam’s new superfan?” Bobby wondered which threat the oldest Winchester meant.  
Sam scoffed when the dreaded subject was brought up once more, “You heard.”  
“I heard, Romeo.” Bobby said. He looked at the younger man with a bit of sympathy for the details he was given over the phone. You shrugged your shoulders, knowing Bobby might have gotten a kick out of it like you had. “So, sword of Michael, huh?”  
“You think we’re talking about the actual sword from the actual archangel?” You wondered as you raised your brows in curiosity.  
“You better freaking hope so.” Bobby replied. You and the boys crowded around the table after Bobby made another trip to the Impala to fetch a few books from the research he did before coming over. He opened up a heavy and large look book, cracking it open to the exact page he’d observed after getting the call from you. “That’s Michael—toughest sumbitch they got.”  
“You kidding me? Tough?” Dean found himself remarking on the appearance as he leaned over your shoulder, staring at the picture for some time.“That guy looks like Cate Blanchett.”  
“Well, most biblical artwork we see today was probably done during the renaissance era when people were flourishing in education and famous painters like Michelangelo and Da Vinci, which explains why most of them are either half naked or pretty feminine.” You accidentally found yourself going on about a subject you didn’t know a lot about, and drifting away from the one you spent an hour before Bobby came over. When the room fell silent, you bit your bottom lip to see the boys and Bobby were staring at you, wondering where you were going with this. “Basically, looks are deceiving. You wouldn’t want to meet him in a dark alley.”  
“He commands the heavenly host.” Bobby explained more of what made Michael so powerful and to be feared. “During the last big dust-up upstairs, he’s the one who booted Lucifer’s ass to the basement. And he did it with that sword. So if we can find it…”  
“We can kick the Devil’s ass all over again.” Sam finished the older man’s presumption. “All right, so where do we start?”  
“Divvy up and start reading—try to make sense of Chuck’s nonsense.” Bobby said, nodding his head at the book in front of you both to start with. “I’ve got more in the Impala. Why don’t you and Y/N make yourselves useful by lugging them up here?”  
\+ + +  
At least a dozen books were sprawled around the room, a few were with Sam and Bobby as they occupied the table, Dean took one to try and make himself useful, all while you kept yourself isolated on the bed. Sam, however, couldn’t get himself concentrate much longer, for this hour felt like nothing but mental torture, the worst it’d been yet today. The younger Winchester tried to examine the books in front of him once more, but his gaze lingered away, his head twisted slightly to examine Bobby from the corner of his eye. It seemed that his nervousness was easy to read when Bobby spoke up with a concerned tone.  
“Kid? You all right?”  
“No, actually.” The younger Winchester answered with an honest answer. You broke your concentration away from reading when you heard what Sam was about to admit. “Bobby, this is all my fault. I’m sorry. Lilith did not break the final seal. She was the final seal.” Sam couldn’t help himself but continue on. "I killed her, and I set Lucifer free.”  
“You what?!” Bobby questioned the younger man.  
“You guys warned me about Ruby, the demon blood, but I didn’t listen.” Sam apologized to Bobby for the trouble he caused over the past several days. “I brought this on.”  
He stalked forward to the young man and stood at the edge of the small staircase, Sam let out a shaky breath.  
“You’re damn right you didn’t listen. You were reckless and selfish and arrogant.” Bobby scolded him like he deserved to. Sam listened to everything without a single word of protest. And for that, he replied with a whispered apology. “Oh, yeah? You’re sorry you started armageddon? This kind of thing don’t get forgiven, boy.” The younger Winchester nodded his head, agreeing with what the man was saying, “If, by some miracle, we pull this off…I want you to lose my number. You understand me?”  
Sam wasn’t expecting that kind of response from the man. You furrowed your brow in frustration as you remained silent, watching as the poor boy tried his hardest to remain in check of his emotions. You looked away for just a split second to stare at Dean, who stood in the background, not even saying a single word. “There’s an old church nearby.” Sam spoke up after a moment’s silence. “Maybe I’ll go read some of the lore books in there.”  
“Yeah.” Bobby agreed with a cold tone. “You do that.”  
===  
“I never would have guessed that your daddy was right.” Bobby sparked up a conversation with an opener that seemed vague, but you knew exactly what he was hinting around. Dean glanced away from the book to stare at the hunter, wondering what he meant by that. “About your brother. What John said—you save Sam or you kill him. Maybe…”  
“Maybe what?” Dean turned around in his spot to face the hunter “You’ve had a lot to say today. Spit it out, old man.”  
“Maybe we shouldn’t have tried so hard to save him.” Bobby came out with it just a second later. “He ended the world. And you and I weren’t strong enough to stop him proper. That on us—and you too, Y/N. Your dad was right, Dean.”  
You watched as Dean suddenly tossed around wrinkled shirts until he pulled out a plastic baggie which contained most of John’s fake I.D.s. you and the boys had no use for, well, until now. He opened up the bag and pulled out a laminated card no bigger than the rest of the things inside. You gave him a look as Bobby got out of his seat, wondering what was making Dean grin like he’d won the lottery. Following behind Dean, you joined him back up where Bobby stood, both of you silently wondering what the older Winchester was so happy about.  
“It’s a card from my dad’s lockup in upstate New York.” Dean explained. He handed over the card for you to inspect. “Read it.”  
“‘Castle Storage. Forty-two Rover hill.’” You read off the address, not thinking for why this would be of such importance, that was, until it clicked in your head a moment later. “Castle on a hill of forty-two dogs— You might actually be onto something.”  
"So you think your dad had the Michael sword all this time?” Bobby wondered.  
“I don’t know.” Dean admitted. “I’m not sure what else Chuck would have meant.”  
“Yeah. Okay.” Bobby nodded his head in agreement. “It’s good enough for me.”  
You and Dean examined the business card for a moment or so, until you found yourself stumbling off to the side when Bobby managed to swing a punch directed at Dean. The card slipped out from your grip as it began to drift into the air, your head snapped backwards as you watched Dean fly backwards from the punch. He broke through the wooden banister and fell onto the bed, only before bouncing off the mattress and landing roughly on the floor, leaving him immobile for just a second, giving Bobby a chance to deal with you. But you had a feeling it wasn’t the hunter. When you stared at him directly in the eye to confront him, you suddenly felt your gut twist at what you saw. Eyes black as night stared at you, making you realize Bobby wasn’t himself, for he was possessed by a demon.  
You had little reaction time to handle this situation. The demon knife was sitting on the nightstand just across the room, but even if you somehow managed to get a hold of it, you could never hurt the man trapped inside his own body. You tried a different route. You decided on the fact Bobby could live with a few bruises as you reached up to try and take a swing at him yourself, but the demon showed he was more powerful than you. He grabbed a hold of your arm, roughly pinning it down, but as you tried to use the other, it only proved to be a bad move. Before you could stop it, Bobby roughly grabbed a fistful of your shirt before he threw you backwards, making you land straight on your back, knocking the wind right out of your lungs.  
You winced in pain as you struggled for a second to recover. While your mind focused on grabbing the demon knife on the table, you found it soon only as that when Bobby headed forward to Dean after tossing him around a bit more, just to be safe. You heard the motel door open and two pairs of footsteps enter the room, knowing your luck, Sam wasn’t amongst the crowd. You tried your hardest to push yourself to your feet, but it seemed someone decided to help you. A hand grabbed a hold of your shirt, forcing you upwards to your feet, but before you could fight your way out of another demon’s grip, your wrists were snatched into the demon’s hand, pinning them against your backside. You were yanked around in your spot to be forced to see that Bobby held Dean by his throat, leaving you in quite a bind. Looking away from the two men, your eyes trailed over to a woman you’d never seen before. She seemed to be having the time of her life from the grin on her face, you watched as she found the infamous demon knife and snatched it from the spot on the nightstand. Inspecting it for a second, she flicked her wrist, twirling it around, curious to see how it felt to play with.  
“I always knew you were big, dumb, slow, dim pain in the ass, Dean. But I never dreamt you were so V.I.P.” The demon gave her full attention to the hunter as she raised a brow. “I mean, you’re gonna ice the Devil? You? If I’d have known that, I’d have ripped your pretty, pretty face off ages ago.”  
“Ruby?” Dean hissed her name with a venomous tone. “Like a cockroach.”  
“Is that a way to treat an old friend, Dean? Try again, sweetcheeks.” The demon corrected him. “Go further back.”  
He looked at her, wondering what demon you had come across before, but from her attitude, he knew who it was. “Meg?”  
“Hi, Dean! Thought I’d never see your face again. I see you’ve made new friends up top. And not just any friends, special friends. Am I right, (y/n)? But I couldn’t resist popping back in after I heard the good news. These are the days of miracle and wonder, kids. Our fathers among us. You know we’re all dreaming again for the first time since we were human? It’s Heaven on Earth. Or Hell.” Meg said. She turned her head to acknowledge your presence, and for an added effect, she gave you a playful wink. “Really, I stopped by for a few reasons. Where’s Sammy, by the way? We really owe him a fruit basket.“  
"My God,” Dean cut off the demon, annoyed from hearing the one sided conversation that felt like it had no end. “You like the sound of your own voice.”  
"You see, I only swung by here to see Y/N, you know, see the wonder by my own two eyes. I thought we’d chat for a bit keep each other company until Lucifer finds his vessel. And when he does, I’m sure his first request will be to see our lovely little (y/n). I’m going to be the one who does it.” Meg decided it was only fair to explain her reasoning of popping out of the blue. “But you, Dean, on the other hand, you’re the only bump in the road. So every demon—every single one—is just dying for a piece of you.”  
He stared at the demon straight in the eye and chuckled, “Get in line.”  
“Oh, I’m in the front of the line, baby.” Meg whispered with an arrogant grin as she leaned forward. “You know, your surrogate Daddy’s still awake—screaming in there. And I want him to know how it feels slicing the life out of you while your friend watches.”  
The anger you had felt just a moment ago was now suddenly replaced with fear from what she had planned. Meg let her lips stretch into a grin as your eyes grew wide. You watched in horror as Dean was pinned against the wall to make this easier. Bobby was still in there, he just needed to wake up before it was too late. You needed something to distract him, but how?  
You had little time to think as the knife began to slowly draw itself into the air. Dean struggled much as he could to get out of his before it was too late. "Bobby, no!” You pleaded with the man, hoping if you screamed loud enough, it would make this plan worked. What you got a response was a sudden explosion from the lamp right next to him, it sure made everyone jump from the unexpectedness of it. You furrowed your brow, wondering how it happened, but you didn’t care. It was enough for Bobby to take control. The hunter that you knew, he came back in control, just in time to realize what he was about to do. He peered upwards at the knife he was holding and then back at Dean, whose expression was nothing but fearful at the things that were unfolding. Bobby didn’t hesitate from what he did next. You let out a gasp of surprise when he plunged the knife into his stomach, killing the demon inside of him. All though this wasn’t what you wanted, it was the perfect distraction to get ahold of the situation.  
You stomped your foot of the demon who was holding you hard as you could and slammed your head against his, momentarily stunning him. You turned around in your spot and swung a punch at him, Dean tried taking down Meg himself. You struggled to keep down the demon as the door to the motel opened up. The initial shock of seeing Bobby lying on the floor with a knife in his stomach lasted mere moments before Sam was greeted by Meg, who managed to take Dean down long enough for her to say a proper hello to his little brother.  
Your hands fumbled upwards to Meg’s wrists when she grabbed a chunk of your hair, yanking your neck at an awkward angle. She examined you for a second or so, her eyes trailed down to the little trickle of blood that began to seep from the side of your head. She let out a little chuckle, seeming amused from the little trick.  
“Oh, I’m sorry, is the precious little anchor hurt? And here I was told that not even God can lay his hands on you.” Meg taunted you with a bitterly sweet voice. “I was told we aren’t allowed to kill you. After all, you’re the reason our Lord is with us. Orders are orders. But I’m sure a few bruises won’t hurt, huh?”  
You could see from the corner of your eye Meg was about to keep true to her promise as she reached upwards to take a swing she’d been dying to do. But before she could, the demon looked up just in time to see she was outnumbered, another body of the man that accompanied her now laid on the floor, dead. She quickly let go of you and pushed herself to her feet when Dean began to slowly approach her with the knife, the predatory look in his eye was clear she was cornered with no way out. Meg had a reputation to keep, and a grudge to hold. Before Dean could finally kill the demon, she opened her mouth, making her escape into the night, leaving you alone as the cloud of black smoke disappeared into the vent.  
Letting out a shaky breath from the situation that had unfolded, your gaze lingered away from the woman Meg had possessed, and to Bobby. You quickly pushed yourself to your feet, ignoring the stumble you had after being hit with a sudden dizzy spell you had. You stumbled back to your knees as you quickly pushed Bobby to his backside, hoping—praying—he was still alive. You kept telling yourself that he was dead. With shaky hands and eyes glazed over, you forced yourself to press two fingers against the crook of his neck. You waited a second or two…until you felt it. You felt a pulse.  
“He’s alive.” The words came stumbling out of your mouth so quietly, you didn’t even hear it yourself, thinking for a split second it was a trick your mind was playing on you. But when you felt the weak thump of a heartbeat against your index finger, you knew it was true. You quickly looked over your shoulder to look at the boys with widening eyes. “Oh my God. He’s alive!”  
You hastily pulled up his shirt to where the bleeding wound was and put your hand on it. At first the boys figured you were trying to stop the bleeding but soon they noticed your painful groans and clenched hand, and Bobby’s breathing becoming better.   
“Call an ambulance— I, I can’t heal him all the way but I think I can keep him from dying.” You instructed the boys and Sam was instantly on the phone.  
Dean stood beside you with a hand on your shoulder, watching you in action. He watched your pain grow bigger and bigger with your groans but noticed that Bobby’s wound wasn’t closing up like it does when an angel heals. He could see Bobby was feeling better but it was a mystery to him how. Soon, your pain had crossed comfortable limits as supressed screams started to leave your lips.  
“Hey, hey, hey. (y/n), you should stop.” He insisted.  
“No, no. It’s okay, I can still manage some more.” You grunted through clenched teeth.  
“(Y/n), the ambulance is almost here. He’ll be fine, you ca leave it.” Sam spoke to you.  
“Okay, I’ll stop as soon as it’s here, k? Now don’t make me talk!”  
\+ + +  
The emergency room on a Thursday night was busier than you expected.  
“We need some help here!” Dean hissed at anyone who would listen.  
The nurse he spotted from down the hall stopped dead in her tracks when she heard his voice. She turned her head to see his glaring expression, but her focus was kept on the man who couldn’t even stand on his own two feet “What happened?” She questioned.  
“He was stabbed.” Samblurted out the truth, knowing there wasn’t a chance some little white lie was going to save Bobby’s life.   
“Get me a gurney!” The nurse called out to one of the women behind the front desk who was observing a patient’s chart. Not even a second later you saw a few people rush over with the gurney the nurse asked for. You stepped out of the way as the brothers worked with the paramedics to help Bobby onto the stretcher. You nervously swallowed from everything that was happening all at once. While Bobby was rushed off to the wing of the hospital that wasn’t meant for civilians, it didn’t stop the boys from trying to follow behind and getting vocal when the nurse lightly pushed Sam back, despite him being almost a foot taller. “I’m sorry. Just don’t move. I’ve got questions—starting with you, young lady.”  
You looked away from the double doors that had closed by now, but from the frosted glass, you could see Bobby being pulled further down the hall until he disappeared. You furrowed your brow when you noticed the nurse was pointing her pen in your direction. “What?”  
“You look disoriented.” She said, pointing the pen further up to direct everyone’s attention to the trickle of dried blood that hung from the side of your forehead. You lifted your hand upwards to lightly touch the blood that you didn’t realize was still there from earlier. “I have a feeling that’s not his blood. Do you have a headache? Possibly suffered a head trauma?”  
Remembering how Meg smashed the motel phone against the side of your head, a migraine had been pounding since you left for the hospital. It’s been hurting since this afternoon. You found the truth slipping out again faster from your mouth before you could stop it. “Well, yeah. But—”  
“No buts.” The nurse cut you off, she gave you a serious look as she began to walk backwards to the trauma wing to tend to the patients. “It sounds like you have a concussion. I highly suggest you check yourself in for an x-ray.”  
You opened your mouth once more to protest, but before she could listen, the nurse disappeared into the hallway, letting the double doors swing, you caught glimpses of her as she descended down the hall. Letting out a sigh, you listened to her suggestions with a grain of salt as you headed for the bathroom to quickly the blood off your hands. You made it a mere five steps before Dean’s frame stopped you dead in your tracks. Your face scrunched up as you looked up at him, wondering what he as trying to do. “Maybe you should stay here, Y/N. Stay with Bobby and get yourself checked out.”  
“No!” The answer came out louder than you had anticipated. “I’m fine. The demons heard where the sword is. We got to get to it before they do, if we’re not too late already. Give me two minutes and we’ll be on the road.”  
You didn’t give any room to protest when you stepped out of the way and headed to the bathroom, where you were given a moment’s peace. You touched your head where it had hurt but you knew the disorientation was not from that. Every time you healed someone, it took it’s toll on you. And this time, you hadn’t just cured a bruise, you’d kept a man from dying. And it was bound to have some effects. Very bad effects. But this was what was strange about this time. If it was any other day, using this much of your healing ability would’ve had you passed out for at least a good couple of hours. But right now all you were feeling was a little nauseated and dizzy.   
You proceeded to splash some water on your face and clean up the wound, and you were ready to go. You had bigger fish to fry at the moment.


	3. Sympathy For The Devil part 3

The drive from Maryland to New York should have took about six hours, Dean made it under four. The neon sign for the warehouse building stuck out like a sore thumb on the darkness brought on from the time being late at night. You hoped Meg was in there and was stupid enough to step into a devil’s trap. It would be easier that way when you stabbed her for what she’s done.  
You waited until Dean slammed the trunk shut before you began heading forward to the storage space. Sam took the left side as you pressed yourself against the concrete wall, letting Dean do the honors of opening up the heavy metal door. You watched with the shotgun positioned for use as he shoved the key into the lock. It took mere seconds before you heard the faint click of a release, Dean undid the lock and looked at his brother then you to get ready. You watched as Dean began pushing open the door, Sam took a step forward as you followed behind. The street lights from outside poured light into the storage space, as you stepped behind Dean to inspect the area, you were taken back at what laid on the floor just a mere few feet from where you were standing.   
Two bodies laid on the concrete ground with a small pool of blood at their head. You looked upwards and began to examine the place to see if you could find anything in the clutter of objects John had been collecting in his few decades of hunting. You searched to see if there was anything that might be a clue to what you were looking for, but you found yourself whipping to the back of the storage space at the sound of an unfamiliar voice that took you by surprise.  
“I see you told the demons where the sword was.”  
You knew it was a matter of time before you saw Zachariah and his goons. “Oh, thank God. The angels are here.”  
“Very nice to see you too again, Y/N. And to think, you could have let them grab it any time they wanted.” Zachariah stepped over the dead body. You stared at him with confusion from what he said. But your neck found a different focus as it turned around when you heard the door slowly shut, imprisoning you with the angels. “It was right in front of them.”  
"What do you mean?” Sam asked.  
“We may have planted that particular piece of prophecy inside’s Chuck’s skull, but it happened to be true. We did lose the Michael sword. We truly couldn’t find it. Until now.” Zachariah explained, but you were only becoming more confused with each word that he spoke. “You’ve just hand-delivered it to us.”  
Dean shifted his gaze around to stare at you and his brother for a second, wondering if you two were keeping something from him. You shook your head as Sam looked baffled from what was going on. “We don’t have anything.” Dean admitted, unsure of what the angel were talking about.  
Zachariah stared at the oldest Winchester for a moment. “It’s you, chucklehead. You’re the Michael sword.” Zachariah told the wonderful news to Dean. “What, you thought you could actually kill Lucifer? You simpering wad of insecurity and self-loathing? No. You’re just a human, Dean. And not much of one.”  
“What do you mean I’m the sword?” Dean questioned the angel.  
"You’re Michael’s weapon.” Zachariah said. “Or, rather, his…receptacle.”  
You furrowed your brow tightly together, “He’s a vessel?”  
“Dean’s the vessel.” The angel admitted with a proud smile as he pointed directly at the hunter. “Because you’re chosen! It’s a great honor, Dean.”  
"Oh, yeah. Yeah, life as an angel condom. That’s real fun.” Dean replied to the position that was being offered to him. “I think I’ll pass, thanks.”  
“Joking. Always joking. Well, no more jokes.” Zachariah shook his head in disappoint. He decided to prove your point as he lifted up his hand. Without an explanation, his fingers made a gun and pointed it at Dean for a moment. But he wasn’t the target, Sam was. “Bang.“  
A painful cracking sound sent your head turning to look at Sam, worried for what Zachariah had done to him. You watched as the man tumbled to the ground when his leg broke clean in half. "Sam!” You called out his name in a panicked tone. Rushing forward to help, you stumbled to your knees and tried helping best as you could. The man hissed in pain when you tried to tenderly touch his wound, curious to see how bad it was. You pulled away when you felt a bone peaking through the fabric of his jeans. With a glaring expression, you looked up at Zachariah for what he’d done. “You stupid son of a bitch!”  
“Keep mouthing off, you two, I’ll break more than his legs.” Zachariah warned. You pressed your lips together and sank your teeth into your tongue. Sam forced himself to work through the pain as you looked upwards at Dean, silently pleading for him to act civil. “I am completely and utterly through screwing around. The war has begun. We don’t have our general. That’s bad. Now, Michael is going to take his vessel and lead the final charge against the adversary. You understand me?”  
“How many humans die in the crossfire, huh?” Dean questioned the angel. “A million? Five, ten?”  
“If Lucifer goes unchecked, you know how many die? All of them.” Zachariah said, giving him the cold truth. “He’ll roast the planet alive.”  
“There’s a reason you’re telling me this instead of just nabbing me.” Dean said. He’d been suspicious of what was going on, until it finally clicked into his head. “You need my consent. Michael needs my say-so to ride around in my skin.”  
“Unfortunately, yes.” Zachariah admitted in a quiet tone.  
“Well, there’s got to be another way.” Dean said.  
“There is no other way.” Zachariah explained for what felt to be the thousandth time. “There must be a battle. Michael must defeat the serpent. It is written.”  
"Yeah, maybe. But on the other hand, eat me.” Dean remarked to the angel. “The answer’s still no.”  
“Okay. How about this? Your friend Bobby—we know he’s gravely injured. Uh, say yes, and we’ll heal him. Say no, he’ll never walk again.” Zachariah gave an offer to someone you loved more than anything. And Dean seemed to agree, saying yet again, the answer was no. “Then how about we heal you from…stage four stomach cancer?”  
The torture was only beginning for the three of you. You furrowed your brow as a second passed with nothing happening. But you quickly looked to see that Dean started coughing violently as he slowly descended to his knees from the pain that was wracking through his system. You scrambled forward to wrap your hands around his shoulders before he could topple to the ground. Dean let out another cough directly into his palm, your eyes widened when you noticed blood came out. “What the hell is wrong with you people?” You hissed at Zachariah. “His answer is no!”  
“Hmmm, wrong answer. Let’s get really creative. Uh, let’s see how Y/N does without her lungs.” Zachariah proposed to add more fuel to the fire. You felt a sudden sensation that couldn’t be described. Your eyes widened as you felt the urge to breathe creep into your mind, but as you opened up your mouth, nothing would work. It felt like someone was strangling you. The angel peered over the three of you with a comical smirk for what he’s done. “Are we having fun yet?” Zachariah took a few steps forward and bent down at Dean’s level, he snatched the man by his chin so he could stare dead straight in his eye. “You’re going to say yes, Dean.”  
“Just kill us.” Dean managed to say as he choked on his blood.  
“Kill you?” Zachariah chuckled at the man. “Oh, no. I’m just getting started.”  
You found yourself shielding your eyes from the blinding light that came out of nowhere. When it faded, you slowly brought down your arm, wondering what happened. You looked up at the other side of the room to see the angel Zachariah had brought along had something stuck in his throat. Your face scrunched up when you noticed it was a blade. But your focus only lasted a few seconds until it drifted to the person holding the weapon. It was Cas, back from the dead. And he wasn’t here to mess around. When he took care of one angel, he moved on to the other. A small fight broke out between the both of them, but Cas remained victorious as he pinned the other man down by the back of his neck before shoving the blade in, killing him instantly. Cas ripped out his weapon you’ve never seen before and stepped back, allowing the body to fall at his feet.  
Zachariah straightened out his shoulders when Cas settled his attention on the angel “How are you…”  
“Alive? That’s a good question. How did these three end up on that airplane? Another good question.” Cas remarked. “Cause the angels didn’t do it. I think we both know the answer, don’t we?”  
“No.” Zachariah whispered, you could hear the fear in his voice. “That’s not possible.”  
“It scares you. Well, it should. Now, put Y/N and the boys back together and go. I won’t ask twice.” Cas said, making sure there was a bit of a bite in his tone. In the blink of an eye, Zachariah was gone. You dropped yourself to your backside when you felt the sweet rush of air seep into your lungs. You inhaled deep breaths as you laid there for a moment, enjoying the sensation of breathing. “You three need to be more careful.”  
“Hello to you, too.” You greeted him with a miserable tone. Cas didn’t seem amused as he stepped forward to the three of you. “Your brothers are bigger dicks than I thought.”  
“I don’t mean angels, Y/N. Lucifer is circling his vessel.” Cas warned the three of you. “And once he takes it, those hex bags won’t be enough to protect you.”  
Cas reached forward to the brothers and placed a hand on their chest. Without a warning, he sent the pain through them, you watched as they both leaned forward slightly and winced. You opened your mouth to ask him what he’d done, but it was cut off when he did the same to you. A sizzling pain, like you were on fire, suddenly erupted through your chest. You hissed in pain, “What the hell was that?”  
“An enochian sigil. It’ll hide you from every angel in creation, including Lucifer.” Cas explained. “I believe it should work well on you, too, Y/N.”  
“What, you just brand us with it?” Dean asked.  
“No.” Cas said. “I carved it into your ribs.”  
You raised your brows from what you heard, “Hey Cas, were you really dead?” You asked him, wondering about the conversation he had previously with Zachariah. The angel looked up from the ground, his answer was yes. “Then how are you back?”  
Before you could get a straight answer from what you were starting to suspect, you heard the familiar flutter of wings, and when you blinked, Cas disappeared from your sight. You let out a frustrated sigh and looked away to the more important mess you had to handle. Glancing down at the dead bodies, you and the boys were going to need to take care of this before leaving  
“Y/N?” Dean called out your name in a worried tone. You slowly looked over your shoulder to see that he was staring at you, Sam gave you a concerned look. “You feeling okay?”  
The question must’ve came from the way you were struggling to walk straight and had just dropped the keys to the car on the ground.  
“Uh,” You pushed yourself away from the door and snatched the keys from the ground. Somehow you managed to get yourself to act normal as you turned around to face them, you gave them a smile. “Yeah, yeah. I think it might have been one of the effects from what Cas did.”  
The boys looked over at one another, as if they were silently contemplating if your excuse was a lie or not. But they fell into agreement as they began working on circling the bodies together. You let out a breath of relief as you finally began to head towards the Impala.   
\-------------------------------------------------------------------  
“‘Unlikely to walk again’?! Why you snot-nosed son of a bitch! Wait till I get out of this bed! I’ll use my same leg and kick your friggin’ ass! Yeah, you better run!”  
Bobby was taking the news like you had expected. You sat in the hard plastic chair every hospital room was provided with for visitors as the brothers occupied themselves by sitting against the windowsill. The doctor arrived shortly after you to make his early morning rounds, Bobby was his first patient to discuss the conditions of his abandoned wounds, and how rather bizarre it was. The doctor didn’t understand how this happened, he was deeply empathetic, trying his hardest to give the older hunter the best neurologist in the state for another opinion to figure out what went wrong.  
The hunter stopped listening when the doctor gave him the brutal news that he would never be able to get out of bed again, that’s when he started hollering on the top of his lungs. The doctor mumbled something about giving Bobby some time to absorb the news before he ran out the door fast as he could, Bobby scoffed as the heavy door slammed shut.   
Bobby shook his head as he replayed the bogus excuses the doctor had given him. “You believe that yahoo?” He asked the three of you. When he looked in your direction, your lips stretch into a smile from everything that unfolded.  
“Screw him.” Dean said, giving the older man a boost of comfort. “You’ll be fine.”  
“So, let me ask the million-dollar question.” You slapped your palms against your thighs and let out a sigh from the dreaded topic you were about to approach. You let out a quiet laugh from the position you were thrown into without much of a choice. “What do we do now?”  
“Well, we save as many as we can for as long as we can, I guess.” Bobby answered you with the most realistic aseptic he could provide. “It’s bad. Whoever wins, heaven or hell, we’re boned.”  
“What if we win?” Dean asked. “I’m serious. I mean, screw the angels and the demons and their crap apocalypse. They want to fight a war, they can find their own planet. This one’s ours, and I say get the hell off it. We take 'em on. We kill the Devil. Hell, we even kill Michael if we have to. But we do it our own damn selves.”  
“While I love your upbeat attitude,” You said, “How are we supposed to do all of this, genius?”  
“I got no idea.” Dean admitted, you raised your brows. “But what I do have is a G.E.D. and a 'Give 'em hell’ attitude, and I’ll figure it out.”  
You could feel your lips stretching into a smile at his optimism about the situation ahead.   
Bobby shook his head, “You are nine kinds of crazy, boy.”  
“It’s been said. But listen, you stay on the mend.” Dean took a giant step forward to the hospital bed and patted Bobby on the shoulder. “We’ll see you in a bit.”  
Pushing yourself to your feet, you gave your final goodbyes to Bobby for the very early morning, suddenly you were hit with an exhaustion from running around trying to save the world over the past two very long days. But before you could make your escape, you stopped in the doorway when Bobby called out for Sam. You backtracked a few steps as Dean found himself peeking inside the room, curious to see what this conversation was about, Sam hesitantly stood at the edge of the bed.  
You were about to give Bobby another final goodbye, but before you could follow behind Dean as he tugged you along, your hand slipped from his grip when you heard Bobby call out your name. “Y/N, wait. Could I talk to you alone for a second?”  
Nodding your head, you shift out of the doorway so the brothers can pass by and start heading down the hall in sync. You watch for a moment as they continue on until they turn the corner, disappearing from your sight. "So,” You look over at Bobby as you begin taking steps forward so you’re right next to his side. “What did you need to talk to me about?”  
Bobby doesn’t speak right away, he seems hesitant to even bring this conversation up at all, but after a moment of silence, he turns his head in your direction. “I want you to do something for me. It’s a big favor, but I know out of anyone, you can handle it.” You look at him a bit funny, but you nod your head, wondering what he is about to throw your way. “You and I both know those boys have been nothing but thick as thieves. Sure, they’ve had their up and downs over the years. But I’m worried this is gonna be too much for Dean to handle. Just…keep an eye out for them, will you? I need someone with a pair of working legs to kick their ass back in line while I’m down.”  
You could feel the ends of your lips stretching into a smile from his joke to at least try and make light of the situation. “And you think I’m the right person for that? I mean, I’m not even sure they trust me that much yet.” 

“Well, those boys are like my own. So, trust me when I say that I know they do. Sure, Dean can be a little rough around the edges but I don’t blame him. He’s been dealt a crappy hand one too many times.” He gave you a warm smile. “I trust you (y/n) and they’re my family. All of you are. You’re part of this family, too. And if I have to be honest, I think you’re starting to be my favorite. There ain’t nothing I wouldn’t do for you kids.”  
It’s always been an unspoken thought of yours that Bobby was like a fatherly figure to you. The boys had known him since they were kids, spending days at his house when John was away on hunts. When you started hunting with the boys, Bobby was just another hunter you would call to help, but after everything you went through, you knew he was far more than just another hunter  
You take a step backwards and give him a warm smile. "Take it easy, Bobby.”  
“Stay out of trouble, kid.” Bobby remarks back.  
You nod your head for his request and mumble a final goodbye, setting your sights on the empty hospital hallway, you find your way through the place until you step through the exit.   
“Dean,” You step behind Sam’s massive frame so you can somehow hide yourself to eavesdrop on this conversation, but you have a feeling Dean knows you’re there. You hear Sam let out a heavy sigh from their conversation that is going far from perfect before asking, “Is there something you want to say to me?”  
“I tried, Sammy. I mean, I really tried. But I can’t keep pretending that things are all right. Because it’s not. And it’s never going to be.” Dean couldn’t help himself anymore when the confessions of how he felt about this entire situation slip out. He wanted to pretend like everything was okay, but over the past several days, after seeing what his little brother had done, it was too much to hide anymore. “You chose a demon over your own brother, and look at what happened.”  
“I would give anything—anything—to take it all back.” Sam said, you could hear the guilt in his voice. Yet nothing could change what Sam did, freeing the Devil from Hell was the straw that broke the camel’s back.  
“I know you are. And I know how sorry you are. I do. But, man, you were the one that I depend on the most. And you let me down in ways that I can’t even…” Dean stopped himself, finding the words that he was speaking were painful, but if he kept going at this rate, he would destroy a family bond that was already fragile. “I’m just—I’m having a hard time forgiving and forgetting here. You know?”  
Sam fell into a moment of silence, finding there wasn’t much else he could say. “What can I do?” He couldn’t help himself ask.  
Dean let out a quiet chuckle, “Honestly? Nothing. I just don’t…I don’t think that we can ever be what we were. You know?” The conversation up to now was just letting out confessions that had been harbouring since this morning. “I just don’t think I can trust you.”  
The words feel like a complete surprise for Sam, and even you, as you quietly listen to this conversation. Dean’s honestly makes you feel saddened to see that a family relationship that was once so strong, has dwindled into nothing.   
\+ + +  
By the time you’re settled into another motel room, it’s the afternoon again. You shut the curtains to block out what sun might peek through on this cloudy day and walk back to your bed, where you’d been sitting for the past hour.   
It’d been at least two hours since you tried praying to Cas, hopeful that he could somehow hear you, despite the engraving inside your ribs that were supposed to make you hidden. You let out a sigh as you tossed the burner phone to the bed and push yourself to your feet, deciding it was time you got some sleep. As you turn around to head for the dresser to pull up your hair, you nearly jump out of your skin from the gravely voice that you were expecting.  
“You shouldn’t have prayed to me, Y/N. It might give other angels your whereabouts.” You look over your shoulder to see that it’s Cas, and from the disapproving look on his face, you know he isn’t happy being called back once more. You don’t make a remark, instead, you walk over to the bed and pick up the phone you haven’t used in months. Reaching out an arm, you gesture for Cas to take it. He furrows his brow and glances down at the phone. “What do you want me to do with this?”  
“Take it. Since the boys and I are under the angel radar, you might need something to contact us. I already put mine, the boys and Bobby’s number in there. So you should be all set.” You explain to the angel, you put your arm further out in front of you so he could take the phone. Cas nods his head and grabs it. He examines the phone for a moment or so, letting the room fall into a silence. You look away for a moment to inspect something, and when you turn your head back to in front of you, it’s almost expected that Cas would be gone. Instead you see that he’s staring at you, with the same puzzled look on his face. “What?”  
“You’re afraid.”  
“Excuse me?”  
“Your heartbeat sounds different from the last time I saw you. It’s more frantic, like you’re scared.” He makes an assumption. You cross your arms over your chest, showing a human sign that you were trying to block him out. When you take a second to look at him from the corner of your eye, you notice that he’s staring at you with concern. “Something’s bothering you.”  
"Thank you for the lovely deduction, Sherlock.” You said with a bit of sarcasm in your voice. You expect him to disappear every time you close your eyes, but instead he stands there, just staring at you. “It’s the end of the world, Cas. Of course, I’m scared.”  
“That’s not it. You’ve faced an enormous amount of obstacles over the past year and not once have you shown a sign of weakness.” Cas said. You look at him with a funny expression from what you hear him say next. “Your worries aren’t about the apocalypse. There is something else, isn’t it?”  
“Why do you care?” You ask him.  
“Because I know what it’s like to rebel against what you’re supposed to believe in. But it’s more than just that for you, isn’t it? You’re worried about the Winchesters, the fate of Bobby’s health, and what is going to happen to you since Lucifer is free from the cage.” Cas doesn’t miss a beat, you give him a surprised expression as you nod your head. “You are much stronger than you think, Y/N. I believe you have a talent for defying people’s expectations of what they want from you.”  
“Thank you, I think.” You aren’t sure if what he says is a compliment, but you don’t linger on the subject much longer, curious of to see if what you suspected was true. “So, you finally grew a pair?”  
“If you mean by ‘growing a pair’ that I’m rebelling against Heaven? Then yes, I did.” Cas answer you with a serious face, “I wish I could say it’ll get easier. I believe most humans say that during times of distress. But the fight is just beginning. It’s only going to get worse.”  
“I know. Trust me, I know.” You whispered with a sigh of annoyance from what the angel was hinting around. “If today was any indication of what we’ve got to deal with, it’s not going to be easy.”  
“For the brothers it will be. You have promise, Y/N.” Cas said, giving you a bit of hope. “Females have a tendency to be more emotionally stable during distressing times than men.”  
You cracked the slightest smile from what you had presumed was a compliment from the angel, “Cas, can I ask you something?”  
“What is it?”  
“Well, now that you’re… rebelling, can you tell me what Zachariah meant back then? When he said I was Lucifer’s anchor?”  
Listening to your question, Cas let out a sigh. “(Y/n), anchors are rare things. So rare that I believe there’s only been one made ever, by Lucifer. When he rebelled against God, he knew that it could result in his destruction. So, to ensure his safe keeping, he made an anchor that would act as a tether between him and God and all things heavenly. Which is why, for him to walk the earth again, it was essential that you were there when his cage was opened.”  
“So, you’re saying that’s what I am? An anchor to the devil? I mean, that’s literally the whole point of my existence… that— that Lucifer can be free again?”  
“I don’t believe so. You have to understand, making an anchor is like a spell. It’s something you do to something that already exists. He didn’t make you, he changed you into his anchor. And there must be a reason why he chose you… I believe it has to do with what you are.”  
“Wait, hold on. You just told me what I am, right? I mean, isn’t this why I’m different? Why I have some abilities… cause I’m his anchor?”  
“No, (y/n). As far as I know, becoming an anchor doesn’t change who you are. And,” another sigh left Cas, “Like I said the first time I met you, I’ve never seen anyone like you. Not on earth, not in heaven.”  
You rolled your eyes and let out a quiet laugh. And here you thought you finally might be close to some answers. And before you could ask anything else, Cas was gone again.   
You head over to the bed that has been calling your name and curl up into the sheets, when you close your eyes, it takes just a few minutes before you finally pass out into a deep slumber.


	4. Sympathy For The Devil part 4

Your dreams are the most pleasant they’ve ever been in months. Instead of dreaming about monsters that want to kill you, the people you see are faces that you haven’t seen in years. Your parents are there, along with your brother and Kate, all of them are smiling and laughing. You dream about having a family dinner, surrounded by the people that you love. The atmosphere in the room makes you feel like you’re on cloud nine, you never want this day to end. Everyone is gathered around like one big happy family, talking and laughing, like how it should have been from the beginning. You roll around in bed as you position yourself to your side when you feel yourself starting to wake up. But you aren’t hit with reality just yet. You still carry on the light hearted, warm nuzzle in your chest as you reach out a hand, your lips stretching into a faint smile when your fingers brush against something that feels like skin.  
For a moment you think it to be perfectly normal for someone to be in your bed with you. You slowly part your eyelids open to see that it’s darkness out, the room is cast in a shadow, making it hard to see who’s sitting on the bed. Your vision is a bit blurry, but from the figure that you see, it appears to be a man.   
“Did you have any good dreams, sweetheart?” You hear his voice, it sounds like familiar in the beginning, but as he continues on, you hear his voice shift to another one you’ve never heard before.  
You opened your eyes all the way when you realize there’s an unknown person sitting at the edge of your bed. The feeling is gone and you’re thrown back into the reality you were avoiding. You shot up in bed when you see a man staring at you, someone you’ve never seen is in your motel room.  
You quickly push your knees to your chest and try to fumble for the weapon you normally kept under your pillow for safety, but there’s nothing there. Out of all the times you forget. The man staring at you made it past the salt lines and dead bolt. You weigh your options. You could try screaming on the top of your lungs to alert the boys since their room was right next to yours. But you find yourself becoming mute, confused by how the stranger has not made a move to hurt you. He’s just staring at you, like he knows you. As seconds pass, you grow uncomfortable with the way he’s observing. The question of asking the stranger who he is sits at the tip of your tongue, but you find yourself unable to speak.  
“My, my, you are a hard one to find. But I have to say, the hunt was worth the wait.” The stranger breaks the silence, but he never looks away from your face. You push the sheets closer to your body when you see that he’s starting to drag his attention is becoming greedier. He inspects whatever he can of your body, as if he’s worshiping every little misplaced piece of hair from your slumber and observing how the shirt you’d worn to bed slouches slightly off the shoulder. “You’re a piece of art, Y/N. A beauty.”  
“Who the hell are you?” You finally get yourself to ask the question. But your voice doesn’t come off strong and threatening like you planned out in your head. Instead it comes out timid and fearful, like it wasn’t hard to see in your expression as your hand holding the knife is beginning to shake, wondering what he’s going to do. “How did you get in here?”  
“Don’t be afraid. I’m not here to hurt you.” The strangers seems to know what you’re thinking, you furrowed your brow as you watch him lift up his hands up in a defeated position. Your eyes wander over to his left hand, noticing there’s a gold band on his ring finger. You quickly look back over at him from what you hear him say next. You watch as his lips stretch into a smile, the lines around his mouth become prominent. “On the contrary, Y/N, I’m here to thank you.”  
You tightly furrowed your brow, wondering for a split second of what he meant by that, but then it hits you like a ton of bricks. Your breathing hitches in your throat as your body freezes when you realize who is sitting at the foot of your bed. Before you stop yourself, a mindless saying you’ve grown used to mumbling comes rolling out. “Oh, my God.” The reaction you get from him is a very quiet chuckle, it seems he finds the misconception of who he is a bit amusing. You nervously swallow as you stare at the man who looks to be in his mid thirties from the wrinkles that have started to seep into his skin and the dark circles that settle underneath his eyes. He looks like someone who had been to Hell and back from an emotional turmoil. It seems only fitting for the Devil to choose him as a vessel. But the man’s sorrow doesn’t match the fire gleaming in his eyes. You push yourself closer to the headboard.  
“You’re…” You find yourself wanting to say his name, but if you did, this would make it real. But he couldn’t have found you so easily. The engraving on your ribs was supposed to keep you hidden from every angel, including him. But he stares at you, and even the darkness, you see his lips stretch into a devilish smirk. “You’re not supposed to be here.”  
“Well, I’m not physically here. I’m in here.” He taps a finger against his skull, making a heavy thud echo through the thick silence. “We’ve got a special connection, Y/N. I needed to see you. Even if it meant popping myself into your head. And my, you are quite the thinker. You’re so sad, so guilty. You deserve so much more, Y/N.”  
“Stop saying my name.” You whispered to him with a harsh tone.   
“I might just take you up on that, seeing as that’s not even your name.” he replied.  
You stare at the person sitting on the bed for a long moment, not even being able to take in his comment on your name, after you come to the conclusion that he’s taking control of someone that had been a human being with a life. “So, Lucifer himself possesses some bastard just to say hello? How thoughtful of you.”  
“I didn’t trick Nick into becoming my vessel, he wanted this, and for the first time in months he’s at peace. I’ve done more for him than God has, or for humanity, in my time of coming back.” The Devil himself acts as if what you were to expect, an angel who has done nothing wrong. You stare at him with a darkening expression, he takes notice right away. “You people misunderstand me. You call me 'Satan’ and 'Devil,’ but do you know my crime? I loved God too much. And for that, He betrayed me—punished me. Just as he’s punished Nick.”  
Everything that Lucifer has done was for his own personal gain to get himself farther to the bigger goal he had. You knew the reason why he fell, it wasn’t because he loved his father so much, it was because he wouldn’t bow down to humanity. He wanted to bring the end of the world because God didn’t pay much attention to him like he wanted. "I never understood why God created those vile things called humans. All they’ve done in the past several thousand years was to be born, live a life of misery, before dying. That’s all they have. God hasn’t helped them since they were created. Why should I bow down to such an inferior creature? They’re nothing. I just want to…bring back things to the way things were. That’s why I need your help, Y/N. I could offer you so many things you desire.”  
You open your mouth to say no, but he stops you, as if he is trying to persuade you even more. “I could give you power and strength someone like you deserves. You have potential to be something great. Give me a chance to show you why you’re special. You deserve to be worshiped like a queen.”  
“Tempting. But I like my life.” You said with a sharp tone. You don’t trust a word he says, because unlike most who would be tempted to saying yes for this offer, you know better than to make a deal. The Devil doesn’t come dressed in a red cape and pointy horns. He comes as everything you’ve ever wanted. “Why should I trust something like you?”  
“Because unlike humans, I have no reason to lie. I will never take advantage of you, Y/N, and unlike God, I will never abandon you. Most of all, I can give you happiness that you deserve. After all, isn’t that what humans desire?” Lucifer asks you. You fall silent as you bite the inside of your cheek, refraining yourself from participating anymore into this conversation and also noting the name he’d just accidentally called you. You want to wake up, you want him away from you far as possible. You realize that’s you. The Devil seems to know what you’re thinking, he gives you a smirk. “I’ll be back for you, Ishika.”  
\+ + +  
Like you requested, you wake up after you see the Devil himself leave your motel room, plunging you back into the real world. Your eyelids slowly flutter open to see you have slept most of the day away, as it’s going on nighttime when you look over at the time from the lock that’s displayed on the nightstand. You slowly look away and draw your attention to the edge of the bed, where not too long ago you had met the monster that wanted to end the world. You push the sheets closer to your body when you begin to remember the conversation you had from him. There was a fraction, the tiniest sliver of your conscious that was tainted cynical from years of hunting, that wondered what kind of power he was offering. Making a deal with the Devil, now that’s something you haven’t tried yet. But you wouldn’t. You were far more interested in learning of how to kill him before he could get what he wanted. And then, there was the name. Ishika. That’s what he’d called you before you woke up. Is that what he was talking about when he said Y/N wasn’t even your real name? If so, what did Ishika even mean?


	5. Good God, Y'all part 1

Chapter Text  
You let out a heavy sigh as you leaned against the wooden frame of the doorway leading into the hospital room. Today marked the third visit with no sign of improvement, physical or mental. Bobby sat in the wheelchair with his back turned to the door, ignoring nurses that checked on his vitals every few hours or guests which have requested for another formal visit.   
“What, it’s been—like three days?” Dean’s voice brought you right out of your personal thoughts. You turned your gaze away to see the man approaching from the corner of your eye, until he settled himself right in front of you. He acknowledged his little brother with a simple look over before letting his eyes drop to you, knowing the sight inside the hospital room hadn’t changed since he left twenty minutes to attend other business. “We got to cheer him up. Maybe I’ll give him a backrub.”  
“Dean,” You mumbled the man’s name in a tired tone as you looked up at him. “Look, we might have to wrap our heads around the idea that Bobby might not bounce back this time.” It was a hard thing to say, admitting the truth nobody really wanted to hear, you let out a quiet sigh when you could see the guilt creeping into the Winchester’s expression from the reality he had been trying to avoid. You bit the inside of your cheek and glanced down to the floor, you noticed a large manilla envelope in his left hand. “What’s in the envelope?”  
“Went to radiology. Got some glamour shots. Let’s just say the doctors are baffled.” Dean said. He opened up the envelope to pull out the x-ray shots of what appeared to be his ribcage. Sam grabbed ahold of them to lift them up at an angle where you and him could examine the details. You furrowed your brow from all the strange markings you’d never quite seen before, all sketched into bone. Sam seemed rather surprised at what he was seeing. “Yeah, well, Cas carved you two some, also.”  
Your attention was drawn away from the x-ray pictures of Dean’s ribcage when you heard the muffled sound of a cell phone ringing. You fumbled a hand into your pockets when you realized it was coming from you. Shoving it out, you didn’t read the name on the screen, you answered the call quick as you could, knowing it was against hospital policy to have a phone on. “Hello?” You answered, curious to see who would be calling you. You were surprised to hear a familiar tone after three days gone without contact on the other side. “Cas?”  
“Speak of the Devil.” Dean quietly whispered, you ignored his comment.  
“Where am I? Uh, St. Martin’s hospital. Why? Where are—Cas?” You answered the angel after faintly hearing the question he asked you. You furrowed your brow when you heard the line go dead silent, all before the familiar dial tone when he hung up on you. “I should have taught him how to properly end a phone call.”  
You wondered why Cas would be calling out of the blue, wondering where you were, and how long it would take until you would spot him. You waited only a few seconds before you noticed the familiar messy undone blue tie and trench coat, popping out from the sea of nurses as they rushed to help tend to a patient just down the hall. "Cell phone, Cas? Really?” Dean asked. “Since when do angels need to reach out and touch someone?”  
“You’re hidden from angels—all angels. I won’t simply be able to locate you like I used to. It was Y/N’s idea I use a phone to contact all of you.“ Cas explained the circumstances to the brothers. As if eyes were drawn to you before about what you did for the angel, you felt a heat coming to your cheek in embarrassment when Cas brought up a situation that was supposed to have been a private conversation amongst the two of you. But you had a feeling he needed to be taught about keeping a secret or two. "Are you feeling better from the last time we talked, Y/N?”  
“Wait,” Dean furrowed his brow from what he heard, seeming to be throw through a loop from what he was hearing. You shrugged your shoulders, silently admitting to sharing a conversation with the angel, thinking not much of it. “You two couldn’t even spend five minutes together in a room without an argument breaking out. Now you’re suddenly best friends sharing secrets and having late phone night conversations?”  
“Enough foreplay.” Bobby cut you off, managing to give you a chance to roll your eyes in annoyance from Dean’s remark before your head to the doorway. “Get over here and lay your damn hands on me.” You slowly looked over at Cas when he continued to stand where he was, prompting the older hunter to become even more irritated from waiting. “Get healing—now.”  
“I can’t.” Cas admitted with a somber tone. Bobby moved his hands to the wheels of his chair and turned around, wanting to face the angel so he could see the pissed off expression that was starting to settle in his face. “I’m cut off from Heaven and much of Heaven’s power. Certain things, I can do. Certain things, I can’t.”  
“You’re telling me you lost your mojo just in time to get me stuck in this trap the rest of my life?!” Bobby yelled at the angel, Cas could only offer an apology for the lack of help he could provide. “Shove it up your ass.”  
You let out a sigh from seeing the man turn back into his depressive self once more. You looked upwards when you heard Dean speak to you and his brother in a whispered voice. “Well, at least he’s talking now.”  
“I heard that.” Bobby said.  
“I don’t have much time. We need to talk.” Cas said. “Your plan to kill Lucifer.”  
Dean nodded his head, "Yeah. You wanna help?”  
“No. It’s foolish. It can’t be done.”  
“Oh. Well, thanks for the support.”  
“But I believe I have the solution. There is someone besides Michael strong enough to take on Lucifer—strong enough to stop the apocalypse. The one who resurrected me and put you on that airplane. The one who started everything.” Cas said. “God. I’m gonna find God.”  
“God?”  
“Yes.”  
“God?”  
“Yes.” Cas answered for the second time for Dean. You leaned yourself against the door as Sam headed over to Bobby, you crossed your arms over your chest and listened to what else had to say. “He isn’t in Heaven. He has to be somewhere.”  
“Try New Mexico.” Dean offered a suggestion, thinking he was being cheeky with the angel. “I hear he’s on a tortilla.”  
Cas furrowed his brow in confusion, “No, he’s not on any flatbread.”  
“Listen, Chuckles,” Dean rolled his eyes from the naive reaction he should have seen coming from the angel. He decided that it was time to put his opinion into this conversation, knowing himself there wasn’t a higher power that was going to come and save the day. “Even if there is a God, he is either dead—and that’s the generous theory—”  
“He is out there, Dean.” Cas cut him off.  
“Or he’s up and kicking and doesn’t give a rat’s ass about any of us.” Dean continued on, sharing more of his pessimist outlook of the situation. “I mean, look around you, man. The world is in the toilet. We are literally at the end of days here, and he’s off somewhere drinking booze out of a coconut.”  
“Enough. This is not a theological issue. It’s strategic. With God’s help, we can win.” Cas said. “I killed two angels this week. My brothers. I’m hunted. I rebelled. And I did it—all of it—for you. And you failed. You and your brother destroyed the world. And I lost everything—for nothing. So keep your opinions to yourself.”  
You knew well enough he was risking his life by rebelling against his own kind by choosing to have a belief in a different path, the feeling was all too familiar for you. Sam was thrown into another wave of guilt from the point Cas made, Dean wasn’t the least bit amused like you had been from the glare he gave you. “You didn’t drop in just to tear the boys a new hole.” You said with a serious tone, managing to get yourself concentrating again. “What are you here for?”  
“I did come for something.” Cas answered you. “An amulet.”  
“An amulet?” Bobby asked. You looked over at the man to see that he turned himself around in his wheelchair, obviously intrigued by how this conversation was going. “What kind?”  
“Very rare, very powerful.” Cas explained. “It burns hot in God’s presence. It’ll help me find Him.”  
Sam found himself curious, “A God EMF?”  
“Well, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Bobby said. “I got nothing like that.”  
“I know. You don’t.” Cas said. He stared at the oldest Winchester for a second, before his gaze fell down to the necklace Dean had been wearing since he was twelve. “May I borrow it?”  
The answer Dean gave to the angel came as no surprise. “No.”  
“Dean. Give it to me.” Cas ordered.  
The Oldest Winchester stared at the angel with a complicated expression. He was acting like he was being asked to chop off his right arm for the sake of humanity. He did what he was told, taking off the necklace, he began to slowly hand it over to Cas, all before yanking it away, needing to give a fair warning.  
“Don’t lose it.” Dean said with a serious tone. Cas nodded his head in agreement as he snatched it away, knowing the amulet was far more important than the personal connection Dean had for the object. The man looked away, feeling out of sorts without his usual gear, it was like something was missing inside of him. “Oh, great. Now I feel naked.”  
Cas held the pendent tightly by the leather strap, “I’ll be in contact.”  
“When you find God, tell him to send legs!” Bobby threw out a command, as Cas walked out.  
The sound of a cell phone going off broke you away from the personal thoughts that were starting to cloud your judgement. You looked over to see that it was Bobby’s phone going off. He reached out a hand and grabbed it from the mobile tray nurses used frequently for patients. Stepping a few steps forward, you were curious to see who could be calling Bobby.  
“Hello?” The hunter greeted whoever was on the other line, but it seemed the connection on the other line was fuzzy, he barely could make out what the person was saying. Yet he recognized the person’s voice from the million other conversations he had from his old hunting partner. You furrowed your brow in concern when you heard the man’s name. “Ruf—I can’t hear you. Where are you?” The conversation with Rufus came out between bits and pieces from the static, you made out a few words, something about demons and needing help. “Coloro—Colorado? River Pass, Colorado? Rufus? You there?”  
Bobby may had treated his old hunting partner Rufus without much of a care when he tried to get into contact with him from time to time, but you could see from the panicked expression that was starting to settle in his face, something bad was going on. And Rufus was very well in danger.  
\+ + +  
It took a little over a day’s drive to arrive into the new state with the same feeling of uneasiness, you still weren’t sure what you were getting yourself into. Bobby could understand only a fraction of the conversation, something about a swarm of demons, maybe even a possessed town full of them.   
The bridge into town was wrecked, the middle of the platform laid in the river, with its concrete road barely being connected together by the steel bars of the reinforcements underneath. You got out of the Impala to inspect the damage yourself, the brothers followed behind, obviously knowing there was something very wrong going on here. You walked to the edge and peered down to inspect the drop that was at least fifty feet down. Dean kicked out his foot, hitting a piece of the gravel, you watched as it rolled off to the edge, making a faint splashing sound when you heard it land into the shallow and rocky river below.  
“This is the only road in or out.” Dean said. You placed your hands on your hips as you examined the scenery, wondering if there was a chance you could find a way into town without breaking your leg from the drop down. Sam took out his phone, hoping for a way to call someone, but he gave you more bad news, there was no signal. “Rufus was right. Demons got this place locked down.”  
“Looks like we’re hiking into town.” Sam said.  
“And the hits keep on coming.” Dean muttered underneath his breath.  
The boys headed for the trunk to gather all the supplies you needed before starting this adventure nobody wanted to start.   
\+ + +  
You arrived into town after struggling to win a fight with getting over the bridge, which wasn’t an easy task as the boys made it out to be. You accidentally caught your footing on one of the rocks, and like a complete idiot, you managed to scrape the palm of your hands and knees. The minor wounds made it a bit of a struggle to hold the loaded shotgun, and walking was a bit of a bitch, but you would live to fight another day. When you arrived into town, it wasn’t like you had much to fight off from the looks of it.  
For the first few miles you walked it seemed like you had stepped into a ghost town, it was all too quiet on the home front for your personal liking from the lack of a soul around. But the innocent scenery only lasted for another mile until you hit the farther end of River Falls, that’s when things were beginning to show the disaster Rufus must have witnessed when he arrived. Every single car in the street was abandoned, one of them was flipped over, making it seem there was an accident, but when you looked to see if the driver was wounded, there was nobody there.  
You continued on your way through the empty streets and shops that seemed to show no sign of human life. But you found yourself paying close attention to a mint condition cherry red mustang, you whistled in appreciation at the model which seemed to stand out from the old pickup trucks and buicks that must have come out from the year you were born. You examined the model for a few seconds longer before you realized the boys were getting a head start, finding the sight ahead of you much more interesting. You took one final look at the mustang before you were following behind, wondering what they had discovered, only when you spotted it, you stopped dead in your tracks. The pavement was covered with a pool of blood, but it was the baby carriage stuck underneath the car’s tire that made your stomach violently turn in nervousness.  
But the feeling only lasted so long, the sound of a gun cocking from behind you made your senses jump on edge from the unexpected threat. You presented yourself ready when you spun around in your spot, quickly drawing up your shotgun, pointing it directly at the stranger, who was pointing the barrel of their own gun directly at Dean, his brother cautiously looming behind the man. But the stranger seemed too familiar. It took Dean a second before he realized who it was, someone he hadn’t seen in well over two years.  
“Oh, my God.” Dean whispered with absolute surprise. “Ellen?”  
“Hello, kids.” She greeted the three of you with a calm tone, then turned to you, “Oh, you made a friend.”  
Ellen took the information with absolute silence as her response. Dean shrugged his shoulders when she took off walking in the direction of a church right across the street, all of you followed behind, sharing no words. She opened up the door as you glanced down on the ground, noticing right away of the salt line and devil’s trap, it was a smart move to keep out the demons this way. But you had a feeling there were more levels of entry, Ellen was smart, she probably took care of that. You stepped inside with the brothers following behind. As the door slammed shut behind Sam, you slowly looked over at Ellen, unsure of what she was going to say next. But it took you by complete surprise when she changed her attitude, and embraced Dean into a tight hug by her, Sam followed suit, happy to see her again after all this time.  
“Real good to see you kids.” She whispered with a shaky tone. But the warm greeting only went one way, Ellen gave no warning when she hauled up a hand and smack Dean right across the cheek, you sank your teeth into your bottom lip, trying your hardest not to let out a nervous laugh. “The can of whup ass I ought to open on you. You can’t pick up a phone? What are you–allergic to giving me a peace of mind? I got to find out that you’re alive from Rufus?!”  
“Sorry, Ellen.” Dean mumbled with sincerity.  
“Yeah, you kids better be. You better put me on speed dial.” Ellen ordered. “Understand me?”  
“Yes, ma’am.” Dean mumbled to the woman, knowing she was nothing short of serious of her command., before turning towards you, “By the way, this is (y/n), she’s a hunter. (Y/n), this is Ellen, also, hunter and friend of ours and Bobby.”  
You extended a hand to shake hers and she took it gladly, “It’s great to meet you.”  
She’s known the lifestyle all too well herself, from having a husband and knowing the Winchesters, it was all too dangerous of a world out there for hunters, and it was better to stay close. You followed behind the woman as she began heading down the staircase, leading to the bottom of the basement level, perfect for hideout. “What’s going on, Ellen?”  
“More than I can handle alone.” She admitted.  
“How many demons are out there?” Sam asked from the back of the line.  
"Pretty much–whole town, minus the dead people and these guys.” Ellen said, heading down to the last step before landing at the basement level. You looked forward to see there were a pair of double wooden doors that laid head, you glanced back at the woman when she spoke up again. “So…this is it, right? End of times? It’s got to be.”  
Sam shrugged his shoulders, timidly addressing the sour subject. “Seems like it.”  
Ellen took the information as what it was, allowing it to process in her mind for just a moment, all before she turned to the door, knowing there were civilians inside that needed your help. You watched as she stepped forward to the door and knocked twice. A second passed before you noticed there was a small peephole in the door, along with an eye creeping out, wondering who it was. When the person recognized the stranger as Ellen, the door swung open, showing a room full of survivors, all scared out of their minds. You didn’t know what was worse, a town full of possessed people, or the poor pregnant woman sitting right across from the doorway.


	6. Good God, Y'all part 2

Lowering the shotgun to your side for safekeeping, you stepped into the room after Ellen, carefully observing the crowd of people that were all huddled together. The room seemed like any other you would find in a church basement, You noticed a priest, a man who looked to be at least in his thirties, huddled in the back of the room with a few blankets cradled close to his chest. You gave him a weak smile when you accidentally made eye contact with him, but yet again, your attention drifted to the woman sitting at the table closest to you.  
She kept her gaze on the floor as her husband comforted her by rubbing her shoulders, you presumed they were married from the gold wedding rings on their finger. You noticed she kept running her palms over her swollen stomach as she almost mumbled something, not directly at herself, but the tiny fetus growing inside her body. Reading her lips, you made out the keywords of “It’s okay” and “Everything’s gonna be fine, sweetie.” You wondered if this was her first child.  
“This is Y/N, Sam and Dean.” Ellen’s introduction brought you out of your thoughts and your gaze over to her. “They’re hunters. They’re here to help.”  
“You guys hip to this whole demon thing?” A male voice made you look over your shoulder to see who spoke up. The man guarding the door stood just a little bit shorter than Sam, but from heavy arsenal he was holding, there wasn’t a lack of threat he could strike in someone. You presumed he was a hunter himself, the woodsy kind, at least.  
“Yeah.” Dean answered. “Are you?”  
“My wife’s eyes turned black. She came after me with a brick.” One of the men sitting at the table confessed to what he had witnessed first hand right when this entire mess started. “Kind of makes you embrace the paranormal.”  
You inhaled a deep breath from the sticky situation that had unfolded. “Catch us up.”  
“I doubt I know more than you do. Rufus called—said he was in town checking out some omens. All of a sudden the whole town was possessed.” Ellen explained. You furrowed your brow in confusion at how quickly the situation escalated. “Me and Jo were nearby—”  
“You’re hunting with Jo?” Dean cut her off, surprised to hear the information come out of her mouth. Never could he think Ellen would join her daughter in the lifestyle that killed her husband many years ago.  
“Yeah, for a while now.” Ellen said. He looked away for a moment to see if you could spot Jo anywhere, but she was nowhere to be seen in this small crowd of at least a dozen people. “We got here, and the place—well, the place was exactly like how you’ve seen it. Couldn’t find Rufus. Then me and Jo got separated. I was out looking when I found you three.”  
You gave her a sympathetic look, “Don’t worry, we’ll find Jo.” Dean said with reassurance.  
“Either way, these people cannot just sit here.” Sam whispered. His gaze lingered for a second or two on the folks who quietly kept themselves quiet with their heavy thoughts. “We got to get them out now.”  
“No. It’s not that easy. I’ve been trying. We already made a run for it once.” Ellen protested the idea, knowing it was foolish to think of such a thing. Sam asked her what happened from her answer. “There used to be twenty of us.”  
You found yourself subconsciously making a mental headcount of the bodies in the room, you made it to about nine. “There’s four of now. ” Dean said, but you doubt the numbers would match how many dozens demons that were outside, just waiting for their next target.  
“You don’t know what it’s like out there. Demons are everywhere.” Ellen said. You knew even if you paired everyone off into groups of three, you couldn’t risk the chance of having someone fall behind from a demon you couldn’t see from the corner of your eye. “We won’t be able to cover everybody.”  
“What if we give everyone guns?” Sam suggested.  
You nudged your elbow softly into Sam’s side to give his attention into the flaw of his faulty plan. “What—are you gunna arm up baby bump over there?”  
“More salt we can fire, more demons we can keep away.” Sam said, adding more reason for his plan.  
“There’s a sporting-good’s store we passed on Main we passed on the way. I bet they have guns.”  
“All right, we’ll go. You stay here.” Sam nodded his head to Ellen to man down the fort as you looked over at the woman, who opened her mouth just a moment later, bringing up the people she was searching for before spotting the three of you. “If Jo and Rufus are out there, we’ll bring them back.”  
Ellen wasn’t particularly pleased with the little room of control you were giving her for the situation, but she nodded her head in agreement, looking away to hide her growing nervousness. You gave her one last look before you turned around to head for the door, the man keeping guard waited for the three of you to head out before locking back up. Giving him a small smile, you stepped out first into the small hallway and headed for the staircase. You grabbed ahold of the banister with a free hand as you made it about two steps. But when you heard the lack of shuffling feet when the door closed back up, you looked over your shoulder to see the boys were standing just outside of the devil’s trap. Dean reached out a hand to stop his brother from going any further.  
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on. Why don’t Y/N and I go?” Dean’s suggestion wasn’t like him. “Somebody’s got to stay here and start giving them shotgun one-oh-one.”  
“Yeah,” Sam agreed with his brother on that point. “Ellen.”  
Dean refused to let this argument die. You felt yourself arching up a brow when you saw him leap forward to stop his brother, yet again, from making his way to the staircase to join you. “It’s gonna go a lot faster if you stay and help, okay?”  
“What’s your big plan, Dean? You gonna go look for guns and salt while Y/N looks for Jo and Rufus? That’s a stupid idea.” Sam said. “You don’t want me going out there.”  
“I didn’t say that.” Dean said, being quick to defend himself.  
“Around demons.” Sam continued on when he gotten a hunch of what Dean was hinting around.  
“I didn’t say that.” Dean argued the same line, yet again.  
“Good God, y'all.” You muttered underneath your breath, rolling your eyes in frustration before you glanced over at the brothers to defuse this argument. “You boys wanna wrap this up? We’ve got a town full of demons, two hunters missing and eight survivors—nine if you count that unborn baby. Now if you want to sit here arguing like a bunch of amateurs, fine. I’ll head out there myself. Just give me the knife and I’ll be on my way.”  
You outstretched your arm and made a gesture with your hand for Sam to give the demon knife so you could stick to your promise. The brothers broke their concentration away from one another and pretended like their argument had never took place. As you began jogging up to the of the top level of the church, you heard the brothers follow behind from their heavy stomps on the wooden staircase from their boots. Positioning the shotgun, you glanced over at the boys while you crossed the same car with the baby stroller tucked underneath the wheel.  
“Y/N and I’ll get the salt. You get the guns.” Sam said, deciding to be the one for making up the plans for this situation as he began walking just a bit faster, until he was in sync with you. “We’ll take a quick look to see if we can find anything before heading back, too.”  
“No We’ll go together.” Dean suggested.  
“Dean, it’s right there.” Sam argued with his brother. You kept your concentration ahead of you, restraining yourself from rolling your eyes once more. “Can we at least do this like professionals?”  
Dean listened to the command as he slowly fell back, stopping in the middle of the road, letting Sam catch up with you before the two of you disappeared into the building. You opened up the door to the store, you and Sam split up by taking different sides of the small store to see if there might be any other customers that were here for other reasons. You grabbed a few plastic bags and tossed them over at Sam to get what supplies you might need.  
You made a mental checklist of what you might need beside the salt, it wouldn’t hurt to be extra cautious. You wandered down the aisles looking for some small items you could carry back to the church for safekeeping before you and Sam headed back out into town to look for Rufus and Jo. Leaning yourself against the shelves that displayed an array of canned goods, you realized this was the first time you and him were alone since this chaos started.  
“How are you holding up, Sam?” Your question could be translated to however the younger Winchester personally wanted. “You know you can talk to me if you want, right?”  
"Can you grab some more bags?” Sam, just like the Winchester way, diverted the conversation to something else. He pointed a finger across the store, you tried your hardest not to let your lips stretch into a frown of annoyance. “These are kind of getting heavy.”  
You can’t see a spec of emotion in his eyes that detect sadness or guilt, there’s nothing but a look that reads like a classic aura of seriousness. He wants to get the job done. You bite the inside of your cheek, a habit that seems to be forming out of stress, and nod your head. Pushing yourself to a standing position, you head over to the front of the store and go straight to the register. But you barely made a second of searching before you hear Sam violently whisper your name from across the room.  
You look up slightly to see what he wants, yet you follow his index finger that hovers over the aisle that hides his ginormous frame. Furrowing your brow, you look over to the door just in time to see there’s two guys coming to the store, from the black eyes and baseball bat one of them is holding, you had a feeling they weren’t survivors. Throwing yourself to the dirty floors, you managed to hide yourself from the demons just as the bell chimes, announcing a new customer. You hear the heavy thumps of boots across the floor. One of them heads to the back of the store while the other lingers in the front.  
A few swear words slip out from your mind when you realized the shotgun was still in the back of the place with Sam, along with the salt. You have no weapon to defend yourself. But you decide to make one more, you need to figure out where the demons are before you could try and make some sort of escape. As your eyes are the only thing visible behind the counter, your eyes widen ever so slightly when you hear the thumping sound of a can hitting the ground.  
Sam tried to play a distraction when he spotted one of the demons right across from him. He had two shotguns and the demon knife tucked in the back of his jeans. It could have been the perfect way to take out two more demons, but it ended up being the worst things he could have done. You scrambled to your feet when you noticed one coming your way while his friend dropped whatever he was trying to steal to the ground. You barely make it across the counter before the demon gets his hands on you. He roughly shoves you against the wall, pinning you in place for just a second. But you retaliate by swinging your fist, managing to throw a punch that sends his head at just the angle which doesn’t look pleasant.  
You notice the shotgun lying on the ground, if you’re fast enough, maybe you could grab it and momentarily stun the demon. Just as you were about to lunge forward, you suddenly find yourself staring at the end of a knife. You barely manage to block a swing, you hiss in pain when you feel the stinging sensation prickle across your skin. The demon managed to slice through the fabric of your shirt and give you a nick, but it’s not what he wants. Your hands quickly grab ahold of the knife by the handle, and by using every single fiber in your body, you try your hardest to push the blade away from you. You try your hardest to push him away, but the demon is stronger than you, and before you could stop it, you feel a gasp of pain escape your throat.  
You glanced down at the knife to see that the blade had disappeared, and from the intense pain in your side, the demon lodged it into you. You felt yourself hitting the wall when he pulled out the knife from your body, with the blade dripping red, it was near impossible to protect yourself from what was about to come. You shielded yourself with a free hand as the other quickly put pressure on your wound, but before the demon could do anything, Sam roughly grabbed a hold of his wrist. Before you could steady yourself, you felt yourself slowly dropping to the ground. You landed to the floor with a soft thud, the pain subsiding in your legs had passed, but the ache in your stomach had grown almost a million times worse.   
Sam roughly held onto the demon knife with a iron tight grip while the other inspected the hunting knife one of the demons had been carrying. The stench of blood filled his nostrils and he steadied his breathing to a normal pace from the extrusion he put himself through. What Sam was most interested in was the blood, how it slowly dripped off the blade, almost effortless. Suddenly he felt his mouth go dry when he sniffed the blood again ,but this time, it smelled different, almost…comforting.  
Without much of a thought, he reached out his hand, and by balancing the demon knife, his thumb brushed across the cold blade, picking up just the tiniest amount of the blood. There was not an ounce of demon blood left in his system, he hadn’t craved it for the past five days. But suddenly Sam was tempted all over again. Nobody would know. Not you, not his judgemental brother.  
Yet the thought vanished straight from his mind like the demon blood in his veins when he heard the jingling echo coming from the store entrance. Sam dropped himself to a crouch as you cautiously tried your hardest to somehow make yourself smaller, but relief flooded through you when you heard Dean ever so quietly call out, “Sam? Y/N?”  
Dean wandered through the place after he dropped the duffel bags crammed with all sorts of different guns and ammunition he stolen from the sports store. The first thing he noticed was the two dead bodies on the ground, and slowly following the blood trail, Dean noticed right away Sam was hovering over it, red handed from the demon knife still caked in blood, and another knife. But his eyes slowly wandered down to the ground, where he noticed you, and the growing dark stain on your shirt. You moved a hand away to try and push yourself into a better sitting position against the wall so you could explain what happened, but all that came out was a muffled groan of pain.  
“What the hell happened here?” Dean questioned the both of you. He rushed to your aid, dodging the dead bodies as he dropped the shotgun to your feet before placing a hand over yours to keep your wound from bleeding.  
“Demons.” Sam tried to explain to his brother. “We got jumped—”  
“Damn it, Sam! How could you let this happen?” Dean snapped with a venomous tone.  
“It’s not his fault.” You manage to speak, despite how much it hurts. “I left my gun when they came. I should’ve kept it on me. Sam saved my life. Don’t bite his head off.”  
Dean found himself taking your advice when he changed the subject, knowing all of you needed to get out of here before someone else came. As the both of you got closer to the front entrance, Dean looked over his shoulder to give his brother a look. A look which Sam could translate into one simple saying he’s been hearing for the past week, “This is all your fault.”  
\+ + +  
You and the boys arrived back to the safety of the basement level of the church, where you were greeted with an unpleasant Ellen when she saw you with a blood soaked shirt. If you thought she had been stressed before, you had only added fuel to the fire. You gotten the chance to inspect your wounds further, and thanks to Brett, the man who had been guarding the door when you arrived, he and Dean worked together in getting your wounds cleaned up.   
You kept yourself busy by helping whoever might need a more intimate lesson on gun safety on who might need it. As you helped Roger, the one you remembered as confessing to his wife attacking him with a brick, you observed him as he tried loading a few rounds into the chamber of the gun. Dean watched for a few moments to see that you and Ellen had most of this under control. He glanced around the room to see that his brother was sulking across the way. Dean headed over to the man.  
“What’s wrong?” Dean asked him.  
Sam wouldn’t answer right away. He fell into a moment of silence when he glanced away from Dean, his eyes wandered around the room, subconsciously looking over at you and watching as you worked. He wished that everything happened differently. “Just…at the store. I know I had to do what I did. But it’s bothering me. Those demons were possessing teenagers.” Sam admitted. “I mean, I had to slit some kid’s throat.”  
“Come on, Sam.” Dean muttered to him, “You had to. If you didn’t, Y/N might be dead.”  
“I know. I just—it used to be…” Sam trailed off, as if he was trying to find the right way to explain how he was feeling. “I just wish I could save people, like I used to.”  
“What,” Dean seemed to have read clearly into what this little brother was trying to say without even realizing it. “You mean when you were all hopped up on demon blood?”  
Sam tried covering himself as he fumbled out an excuse, “I-I didn’t say that.”  
“I’m heading out.” Ellen’s voice brought the brothers away from a conversation that could have possibly turned into a petty argument. You looked over your shoulder when you noticed she had wandered off, you noticed she was with the boys. Sam looked at her with a serious expression, asking where she going. “I can’t sit here on my ass. My daughter’s out there somewhere. I’m not back in half an hour, go. Get these people out of here.”  
“No, wait.” Sam pushed himself to his feet, his brother followed in his actions just a second later. “I’ll go with you.”  
“Whoa. Hold on. Can I talk to you for a second?” Dean asked, stopping the younger Winchester. You watched as the both of them wandered off into the outskirts of the doorway. Ellen turned her head to look at you, slightly curious to see what this was about. “You’re gonna go out there again?”  
“Well, crap doesn’t hit the fun with coffee breaks.” Sam said. Dean didn’t waste a single breath when he offered the chance to go with Ellen instead. “It’s fine. Just stay here with Y/N, get ‘em ready. I’ll cover Ellen.”  
“Why’s it gotta be you?” Dean questioned his little brother.  
You could detect from Dean’s voice what this argument was all about, and it seemed Sam did, too. “Oh, that’s right. I forgot.” Sam mumbled with a snarky tone. “You think I’ll take one look at a demon and suddenly fall off the wagon, as if, after everything, I haven’t learned my lesson.”  
Dean was just insinuating a presumption from mere observation. “Well, have you?”  
Sam couldn’t help himself when he roughly pushed his brother against the wall, overcome with frustration at the accusation being tossed around. “If you actually think—” Sam hissed at the man with anger, but he stopped himself when he noticed you were lingering in the doorway.  
“Is everything okay?” You asked the both of them with a quiet voice.  
“Fine.” Sam muttered underneath his breath.  
You stepped out of the way just in time when Sam made his way back into the room. It seemed they settled who was going when the younger Winchester grabbed his shotgun from the table and went back out to the hall, passing by his brother without even a second glance. Ellen rolled along with the situation, heading out to the streets to find her missing daughter.  
\+ + +  
Ellen said they would be gone for half an hour, it had been going on over an hour since she said she would be back with Sam. You tried getting yourself to listen at the bible verse the priest had been reading to keep everyone’s spirits high, but you kept observing Dean from the corner of your eye as he kept pacing back and forth, wanting some kind of sign to know what was going on. He got it just a second later, from the knock on the door.  
You turned your head to the door, along with everyone else, curious to see who it was. Dean didn’t waste a second when he headed over, moving the heavy wooden statue out of the way after cautiously looking out the peephole when he noticed it was Ellen. SShe didn’t make eye contact with anyone, the woman just came inside the room and headed for the table, putting down her gun. You noticed the look on her face, she was distraught, as if she’d witnessed something terrible.  
“Where’s Sam?” Dean asked the important question when he noticed Ellen had come in alone.  
She took a seat right next to you, guilt creeping into her expression from what she let happen without much of a choice. “They took him? Demons took him?” Susan, the pregnant woman, asked what you had dreaded to hear. You could hear the fear in her voice from what was happening. “What if they’re in here–the demons?”  
“No.” You managed to give her answer, despite how quiet your voice came out.  
“Everybody sit tight. I got to…” Dean grabbed the shotgun from the table, thinking this problem could be solved by handling this situation himself with just adrenaline alone. You called out the man’s name, dragging him back into reality. Despite how much the brothers argued, they wanted the best for each other. Dean cursed underneath his breath and turned back around, deciding to do the smart thing, by figuring out what the hell was going on. “Okay, we need to get a plan together. Tell me everything.”  
\+ + +  
“One of them is in Jo. We got to get out of her without hurting her.” Ellen tried explaining the best she could of what she saw out there to you and Dean. “It called me a bitch.”  
“Bruise a little easy, don’t you think?” Dean made a slight remark, thinking the woman had thicker skin than to actually listen to a few insults a demon threw at her way.  
“No, that’s not what I meant. It called me a black-eyed bitch.” Ellen corrected herself, you looked at her with a funny expression, thrown off yourself from why a demon would say that. “What kind of demons are these? Holy water and salt roll right off. My daughter may be an idiot, but she’s not stupid. She wears an anti-possession charm. It’s all kind of weird, right?”  
You leaned back in your seat and shook your head, knowing that was an understatement of its own. You had met a few demons who weren’t affected to holy water, Lilith and Azazel, but they were higher up on the food chain. “The whole thing’s off.” You admitted with a sigh.   
“What’s your instincts?” Ellen asked the both of you.  
“My instinct?” Dean repeated after the woman. You glanced down to see that he absentmindedly began playing with the ring he always wore on his right hand. “My instinct is to call Bobby and ask for help. Or Sam.”  
“Well, tough. All you got’s me and Y/N, and all we got’s you.” Ellen said with a serious tone. She was right about one thing, it was just the three of you now. It would have to be enough to save the day. “So let’s figure it out.”  
Ellen stared at the both of you for a moment with the kind of expression that would whip anyone back into shape. But when the slightest smile began to form at the end of her lips, you could feel the same happening to you. “All right.” You said, nodding your head in agreement. “Do you know why Rufus came to town? Was there a specific omen?”  
“He said something about water.” Ellen admitted. “That’s all I know.”  
“Padre,” Dean glanced over at Father Matthews when he happened to be walking down at the far end of the table. The pastor stopped in his tracks and looked over at Dean, caught off guard after being pulled away from his task. “You know what she’s talking about—the water?”  
“Uh, the…” Father Matthews thought to himself for a moment, before the memory came back to him. “The river—ran polluted all of a sudden.”  
“When?” You asked.  
“Last Wednesday.” Brett answered, heading over to the table himself after overhearing the conversation. “And the demon thing started up the next day.”  
“Anything else?” Dean asked the two men. You could see the both of them give each other a look, as if there was something they wanted to say. “Anything.”  
“Maybe. But it’s pretty random.”  
“Good. Random’s good.”  
“Shooting star—does that count? Real big. Same night—Wednesday.” Brett said. Nodding your head in agreement from what you heard, you wondered for a moment of why this sounded familiar to you. You slowly pushed yourself to your feet, making sure you didn’t tear at the gauze keeping your wound covered best as it could. Wincing slightly, you forced yourself to the bookshelf you spotted right across from the double doors. It only took a second of searching before you found the bible, a small copy amongst a few others you had spotted. You headed back to the table and took a seat once more. “So, uh, you think that all this comes from outer space?”  
“This isn’t ‘X-Files,’ pal.” Dean remarked to the man with an eyeroll from the assumption.  
You propped the book up to its spine and cracked it open to the middle, you began flipping through several pages and skimming through a few passages, until you found the exact one which you were looking for. “'And there fell a great star from Heaven, burning like a torch, and it fell upon the river, and the name of the star was wormwood and many men died.’”  
“Revelation 8:10.” Father Matthews mumbled ever so quietly underneath his breath, realizing what passage you were speaking from. “Are you saying that this is about the…apocalypse?”  
Dean looked over at the pastor, “You could say.”  
“And these specific omens,” You asked Father Matthews. “They’re prelude to what?  
“The four horsemen.” He managed to croak out an answer.  
"And which one rides the red horse?”  
“War.”  
“That could explain the cherry mustang parked on Main.” You noted, thinking it could be a possibility for something else. “Think about it for a second. What if War is a man? He’s got to get here on his blood red horse. But that might draw some unwanted attention. I have a feeling he’s here…messing with our heads.”  
“Turning us on each other.” Ellen added, getting at your possible theory.  
“You said Jo called you a black-eyed bitch.” You said, the woman nodded her head as the slightest somber expression settled on her face, You thought about it for a moment or so. And then it made sense of what was going on, This was just about senseless actions of violence. “They think we’re demons. We think they’re demons. What if there is no demons at all and we’re all just killing each other?”  
“Wait—just back up.” Father Matthews said. You looked over at him to see that he was hooked on another piece of information that he was still trying to process. “It’s the apocalypse?”  
“Sorry, padare.” Dean said with a grim expression.


	7. Good God, Y'all part 3

The younger Winchester had gotten the feeling after seeing Rufus and Jo weren’t possessed after seeing the both of them step out of the devil’s trap without a problem. Not to mention the little detail when they handled holy water and salt, nothing happened to them. Their black eyes he once saw them with vanished when they were pouring salt down his throat and conducting an exorcism on him after they kept thinking he was a demon himself. But Jo and Rufus were perplexed themselves when Sam wasn’t screaming in pain when being tortured with all the things that were a demon’s known weakness.  
Sam had been left alone for the past hour by himself, he spent the time by contemplating of how he could get either Rufus or Jo to listen to figure out he wasn’t a demon. But he was pulled away from his thoughts when the silence was pierced by a rattling door handle. The door swung open just the slightest a moment later, all though the person standing in the doorway wasn’t a hunter, but a survivor that should have been in the church basement with you and his older brother.  
“Who the hell are you?” Sam asked the man standing in the doorway. If his mind remembered correctly, the stranger’s name was Roger, he confessed to killing his wife after she came after him with a brick. But seeming him here, after getting past two hunters without making a sound, Sam had a feeling Roger wasn’t exactly who he said he was. Roger stood in the doorway and took off his glasses, deciding the charade was over. “What are you?”  
“You caught me. Popped in to watch.” Roger said with a little too casual of an attitude for Sam’s personal liking. Sam narrowed his eyes on the man with caution.“I can hustle like that.”  
“So, the Roger everyone here knows,” Sam asked with curiosity to see what he was dealing with here. “The real Roger?”  
“Buried in a ditch.” The man replied with a shrug as he closed the door behind him.  
“Mm-hm.” Sam hummed ever so quietly, watching as the stranger closed the door behind him to give the both of them a bit of privacy. “So, who are you?”  
“Here’s a hint. I was in Germany. Then in Germany. Then in the Middle East. I was in Darfur when my beeper went off.” Roger decided to play a little game, “I’m waiting to hook up with my siblings. I’ve got three. We’re gonna have so much fun together.”  
“I know who you are.” Sam scoffed, realizing who he was sitting across from after listening to all the little hints. It wasn’t hard to figure out Roger wasn’t some townsfolk, he was War. Lucifer wasn’t the only thing that was freed after breaking the last seal, there was much more to the rapture than taking down the Devil. “There aren’t any demons in town, are there?”  
“Nope. Just frightened people ripping each other’s throats out. I really haven’t had to do much. Take out a bridge here, lay in a little hallucination there—sit back, pop some corn, watch the show.” War said. “Frankly, you’re really vicious little animals, Sam.”  
“No. You’re doing this.”  
War rolled his eyes from the accusation, “Please. Last week, this was Mayberry. Now these people are stabbing each other’s children.”  
“Cause you made them see demons!” Sam argued with the man.  
“Honestly, people don’t need a reason to kill each other. I mean, you seen the Irish? They’re all Irish.” War tried reasoning with the younger Winchester, “You think I’m a monster. I’m jello shots at a party. I just remove inhibitions.”  
“I’m gonna kill you myself.” The younger man threatened with a low and dark tone.  
War replied with a throaty laugh, “Oh, that’s adorable, considering you’re my poster boy.  
Sam looked at the man with a perplexed expression, "What’s that supposed to mean?”  
“You can’t stop thinking about it—ever since you saw it dripping off the blade of that knife. And I’m not talking about those poor bastards you wasted.” War said. Sam shook his head, denying the accusation. “Save your protests for your brother. I can see inside your head. And, man, it is one-track city in there. Blood, blood, blood.” War leaned forward in his seat, ever so slightly amused as how the hunter began to squirm in his seat, “Lust.”  
“What? No.” Sam denied the truth. “You’re wrong.”  
“For power. You just want it all, Sammy. You want another swing to kick that big ego up again. You want to be strong again.”  
"You think I’d feed again? Never.” Sam hissed at the man. “You’re a sick, son of a bitch.”  
“Please. I’m just saying what’s been up in that head of yours. You’re human, Sam, it’s normal to want power. And maybe…a little bit more. You think about it with the best of intentions and bury it away because you think it’s never gonna happen. But that’s where I come in. I take all those barriers away and give you the leverage you want—you need.” War gave an opposition that any fool would take up for grabs, but Sam’s will power wouldn’t crack. “You and those good intentions—quick slide to Hell, buddy boy. It’s not gonna last very long. Because you got a taste and you’re always gonna want more. It’s going to be in your head. Nagging and nagging until you break down and finally sink your teeth for that sinful taste.”  
“You feel bad now? Wait until you’re thigh-deep in warm corpses. Because, my friend, I’m just getting started.” Sam watched as the man got up from his chair and decided their little chat was finally over. War put a hand into the inside of his suit jacket pocket to fetch out his glasses. “Showtime for the meatsuits.”  
\+ + +  
“So, now you’re saying that there are no demons and that war is a guy.”  
“You believed crazy before.”  
But before anyone could help smooth this situation along, your attention was dragged to the double doors that lead to the staircase outside, your brow furrowed tightly together when you heard pounding erupt from the outside, pleading for someone to open up followed just seconds after. Brett headed straight for the doors and opened them up to reveal a very frantic Roger.  
“I saw them—the demons.” Roger managed to say between deep pants for breath. You watched as he headed over to the table and leaned over to get his breathing in order. “They know we’re trying to leave. They said they’re gonna pick us off one by one.”  
“Wait, wait, wait. What?” You asked the man with all sorts of confusion.  
“I thought you said there were no demons.” Brett said with a suspicious tone.  
“There’s not.” You answered for him before anyone else could. You silenced him for a moment as you glanced over at Roger, wondering how he managed to slip under the radar without anyone knowing. “Where did you go?”  
“I thought someone should go out and see what’s going on!” Roger said.  
“Where did you see the demons, and what did they say exactly?”  
“We just sit here, we’re gonna be dead.”  
“No, we’re not!”  
“They’re gonna kill us—unless we kill them first.”  
“Okay, hold on. Hold on.”  
“No, man, we got people to protect.”  
“Everyone, calm down!” You shouted on the top of your lungs. You managed to bring the room to a complete silence and stopped Brett from handing off a gun to someone. “Can’t you see this is what he wants? This is not a demon thing. It’s all about fear and he’s using it against you. Now, we just have to…”  
You found yourself trailing off in thought as you mindlessly glanced over at Roger, you noticed he lifted up his right hand, the one where he wore his gold ring. You thought it was just his wedding band, but it was about to become more deadlier than you once presumed. He gave you a sly wink and twisted the band with his index finger. “Look at their eyes!” A split second later, he was pointing the finger at you, his demeanour changing into panic as he began backing away like you were the monsters here. “They’re demons!”  
Your eyes widened from the accusation that was being pointed against you. You turned your head to look at Dean and Ellen, while everyone else saw inky black eyes, you saw them as normal. Before you could tell them it was a hallucination, you were nearly jumping a foot in the air when Father Matthews decided to be a bit trigger happy and shot directly at Dean. The three of you wasted no time in scurrying for the front door, realizing you were now the predators you warned the prey about.  
\+ + +  
When the morning came, the streets might have been deserted, but you knew soon it would be filled with dead bodies and blood if you weren’t fast enough to stop this. The three of you managed to find refuge in some abandoned house not too far from the church. Ellen had remembered where Jo and Rufus were staying, but without a single scratch of a weapon to defend yourselves with, it would be a bit of a tough break. Everyone thought you were demons, you doubt both the hunters weren’t affected from whatever War was doing. But you knew Sam was still in their care, and if you wanted to save the day, you needed all the help you could get.  
Dean and Ellen comprised on the deal of working together to take down each hunter. You kept yourself hidden behind an abandoned car that was exactly across from the house both of the hunters had been staying in. Ellen had said Rufus liked to wire up windows with pipe bombs to make sure whoever was stupid enough to trip the wire might lose an arm or two. To keep that from happening, you carefully tossed a decent rock up in the air, waiting as Ellen and Dean cautiously trailed themselves over to the house. When they were at a safe distance, you stood up and got yourself at the perfect position with the window on the front porch. You swung back an arm, and with all your might, you landed a bulls eye in the glass, shattering it completely.  
You quickly dropped yourself to your knees and covered your ears when you heard the explosion go off, sending a decent amount of debris to the ground. The plan had worked out like you hoped. It was exactly the perfect distraction to give Ellen and Dean a few moments to sneak while Rufus looked for bloody limbs as the smoke cleared. You leaned yourself against the car and winced in pain from the exertion you weren’t exactly ready for. Inhaling a few deep breaths, you tried to give yourself a bit of time to try and gain some energy back before heading in to cover as back up. Yet you had a feeling it wasn’t going to be all that easy when you heard the sound of loud voices coming from the front porch, you recognized one of them as Dean’s.  
Peeking out from the car, you slowly looked up to see a man you’ve never seen struggling to keep down the older Winchester as they argued about something. If you guessed from the age, this was the infamous Rufus you had heard about from Bobby. You let out a frustrated sigh as your hand placed itself against your stomach for a brief moment, knowing that Dean was going to need some backup. You pushed yourself to your feet once more and headed for the porch, adding yourself to this fight.  
You came in just at the right moment when Rufus was slammed down to the ground by Dean.  
“He means the horsemen!” You quickly bent down and snatched Rufus by his arm, managing to block before it could come. Rufus was caught off guard from seeing you, a stranger that he never met before, but from seeing you without demon eyes, it seemed he was a bit more trustful to see what you had to say. “He’s turning us against each other. You’re hallucinating.”  
Rufus stopped struggling a moment later when he began to process what you admitted. He slowly looked over at Dean to see that there were no more inky black eyes staring at him. "Horsemen.” He muttered underneath his breath. “War.”  
“Oh my, God. Yes.” You gritted your teeth. “Want me to spell it out for you?”  
“Did you figure this out all by yourself, genius?” Rufus asked the older Winchester. “Or did your smart ass mouth of a partner help?”  
You couldn’t help yourself but grow the slightest smirk from Rufus’ comment as you got off of him, letting Dean help the man to his feet. You headed for the front door and opened it open without a moment of caution. But you found yourself stopping dead in your tracks when you saw Ellen swinging a loaded shotgun in your direction with Jo cautiously by her side.  
“We all on the same page?” Ellen asked the three of you. All of you nodded your heads. "Good.“  
"Good.” You breathed out, feeling a bit confident to put your hands down as Ellen lowered her gun away from you. You looked over just slightly to see her daughter staring at you and Dean back and forth. You gave her a smile, knowing it wasn’t always the best circumstances you were meeting her in. “Hi, Jo.”  
“Hey, Y/N.” Jo said, seeming happy herself to see you. “Mom told me about you.”  
“Welcomes aside, we got to find War before everybody in town kills each other.” Dean said. But it seemed he was already too late from the first gunshot just a second later. You quickly dropped to your knees for cover when gunfire from outside erupted without warning. “Where’s Sam?”  
Rufus pointed upstairs, not waiting to hear the vocal answer when you heard the gunshots die for just a split second. You and Dean raced up the steps as the rest went their separate ways. You checked the first door on the left and swung it open, you were greeted with Sam.   
“Guys,” Sam warned the both of you. “It’s not demons.”  
“It’s war.”  
“It’s war.”  
You couldn’t help yourself but let out the tiniest laugh at their impeccable timing as you pulled out a knife from your back pocket. You and Dean worked quickly at cutting Sam free from his bonds. “I just can’t figure out how he’s doing it.” You admitted, the blade of your knife slicing through the rope keeping down his right arm. When Sam mentioned a ring, you looked up at him, suddenly remembering what you witnessed. “The ring. The ring—that’s right. He turned it right before he made everybody hallucinate and go hellbitch.”  
\+ + +  
Roger was a suitable choice after all, an older gentlemen nobody would think could cause any harm if they passed him by the street. War examined his little project with a growing victorious little smile. Heading forward to his red horse, a vintage two door cherry red mustang, it felt like a day of a victorious win. Chuckling to himself, he was about to shove his hand into the pocket of his dress pants, but they slipped out of his hands when he felt something grab ahold of his arms.  
“Leaving so soon?” You asked with a too sweet of a voice. You stared at the man with an arched brow, knowing with the boys pinning War into place, you slowly pulled out the demon knife from your back pocket. “And here I thought we were having so much fun.”  
“That’s a sweet little knife.” He commented with a smirk. “But, come on. You can’t kill war.”  
“Oh, I know.”  
Without a warning, You pressed the blade of the demon knife to Roger’s index finger and cut it right off. You grimaced in discomfort when you felt the blood spatter accidentally land on your face, but the distant sound of the ring dropping to the pavement was worth it.  
Disregarding the index finger, you reached for the gold band abandoned on the ground and picked it up to examine the detail for a moment’s time. But when you glanced over to see his reaction, you were taken back to see that War disappeared, there wasn’t a trace of the red car or the man he once possessed. It was as if nothing happened.  
\+ + +  
You shifted around in the backseat of the Impala, trying to get yourself just a tad more comfortable as you pushed the duffel bag closer to make sure it supported your neck and head just right. Too exhausted for your own good, you were spending this early afternoon taking a much needed rest, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your skin that peeked out from the windows open windows, letting even a bit of a breeze come through. Back outside, not too far from where the car was parked, the brothers occupied a picnic bench and examined the scenery of a rest stop that was abandoned for the most part, except for the three of you.  
Dean squinted his eyes to examine the gold ring further with detail as he lifted up closer to the sky, wondering if he could make out anything that was closely special. There wasn’t much detail, even with the blood washed away, it remained as another golden band ring, with the owner being one of the four horsemen, naturally. “So, pit stop at Mt. Doom after Y/N wakes up?”  
Sam quietly scoffed at his brother’s joke and looked away from the ring, letting his gaze settle on the miles of wilderness keep his attention for a moment or so, the silence kept his thoughts at bay for just another minute or so longer. But Sam wasn’t taking any chances. He’d already screwed up enough.  
“Dean—”  
“Sam,” The oldest Winchester cut off his little brother when he had a feeling he knew where this conversation was about to go. “Let’s not.”  
“No, listen. This is important. I know you don’t trust me. Just, after what happened to me, I realized something. I don’t trust me either.” Sam admitted the painful truth that had been sitting inside his head for hours now. “From the minute I saw the blood, it was the only thought in my head.”

Sam managed to gain the strength to look at his brother straight in the eye, nervous to see how the man was going to react, Dean just stared at him with a calm expression, giving him a chance to explain himself. “I almost did it. I told myself it’s for the right reasons, my intentions are good, and it, it feels true, you know? I think it was just because I miss the feeling. And it brought me back to that high. I know how messed up this sounds, which means how messed up I am. Thing is, the problem’s not the demon blood, not really. I mean, what I did to myself, I can’t blame Ruby for tricking me into doing it, or the blood when I was on it.”  
Sam let out a heavy sigh, knowing he’d screwed up. “The problem’s…How far I’ll go to get there again. And what I do when I’m on it. There’s something in me in that…scares the hell out of me, Dean. In the last couple of days, I caught another glimpse.”  
“So what are you saying?” Dean asked, needing to know what to make of this confession.  
“I’m in no shape to be hunting. I need to step back ‘cause I’m dangerous. Who knows what I might do if this happens again.” Sam suggested. “Maybe it’s best if Y/N and you go your own separate ways from me.”  
Dean fell silent after hearing the proposition from his little brother. "Well,” Dean spoke up. After taking things into consideration and fully processing what Sam had to say, he gave the man an honest answer. “I think you’re right.”  
The younger Winchester seemed a bit taken back from the agreement that happened a little too fast. "I was expecting a fight.”  
“The truth is, I spend more time worrying about you than doing the job right. And if you’re about…this,” Dean stopped talking for a moment, he gestured to the Impala by the nod of his head. He let out a heavy sigh, feeling guilty himself for what he was about to admit, but it was the truth. “I don’t want to take the chance. Not to mention everything going on. It’d be the best thing for everyone. And I just—I can’t afford that, you know? Not now.”  
“I’m sorry, Dean.” Sam mumbled with sincerity.  
“I know you are, Sam.” Dean said. He knew his brother was, he had since this very beginning. “Hey, you, uh…want to take the Impala?”  
"That’s okay.” Sam shook his head, giving a fraction of a smile from the offer. “Take care of yourself, Dean. And go a little easy on (Y/N), okay? I know you haven’t really trusted her considering… everything. But after what we’ll all been through together, I think you should give her a chance, Dean”  
"I can’t say I haven’t seen that Sam.” Dean admitted. “But I don’t wanna take any chances, after everything with you, you know.” He could only imagine what your reaction was going to be when you figured out what was going on. He looked at his little brother and nodded his head, deciding this was the final goodbye. “Be careful out there, Sammy.”


	8. Free To Be You And Me part 1

“Cas?!” You yelled on the top of your lungs in absolute shock. You feel yourself blushing the deepest shade of red a human could produce when you realize what was going on and what he almost had seen. Cas stood there with the most calm look on his face, with just a tad confusion of what the fuss was all about. “Don’t do that!”  
Cas greeted you with a nod, “Hello, Y/N.”  
Ever since Sam left, you and Dean were running cases on cases which rarely gave you time for yourself except when he decided to bring a girl back to his place. Which meant you could get some privacy in a separate room, but, it didn’t last long cause Cas decided to drop in unannounced while you were changing.  
You let out a frustrated sigh, knowing the peaceful night in you had planned out was ruined.   
“How’d you find us?” You asked. “I thought we were flying below the angel radar.”  
“You are. Bobby told me where you were.” Cas answered. You let out a scoff and sat yourself back down on the bed. Cas fell silent for a moment as he began to observe the room, seeming to notice there was something off here, for there was one person missing. “Where’s Sam and Dean?”  
“Me and Dean thought it’ll be nice to have a night to ourselves, he’s in the next room, while Sam decided to take a separate vacation from us for a while.” You said, explaining the situation.   
You offered to call Dean from the other room, as much reluctant he was to let his lady of the night go, he complied.  
“So, did you find God yet? More importantly, can I have my damn necklace back, please?” Dean asked, as soon as he entered.  
“No, I haven’t found Him. That’s why I’m here.” Cas said. “I need your help.”  
“With what—a God hunt?” Dean asked, taking a presumption of where this conversation was going. “I’m not interested.”  
“It’s not God. It’s someone else.” Cas answered. You pushed yourself up to your feet and raised your brow, asking him who. “It’s an archangel. The one who killed me. His name is Raphael.”  
You fell silent when you found yourself becoming interested to see where this had to go, Dean, meanwhile, decided to crack a witty joke after hearing the name. “You were wasted by a teenage mutant ninja angel?”  
You rolled your eyes in annoyance, but Cas didn’t seem to understand the reference when he continued on with the conversation. “I’ve heard whispers that he’s walking the earth. This is a rare opportunity.”  
“For what, revenge?” You asked with a bit of hesitance.  
“No. Information.” Cas corrected you.  
Dean scoffed at the angel’s lousy sounding plan as he shook his head, “So, what—you think if you find this dude, he’s just gonna spill God’s address?”  
“Yes.” The angel said with seriousness. “Because we are gonna trap him and interrogate him.”  
“You’re serious about this?” Dean asked, Cas nodded his head a moment later. You glanced away from the angel and looked over at the hunter, from the look on your face, you seemed rather curious to see where this could go. “So, what—are we the three musketeers again, is that it? Are we just gonna hold hands and sail off this cliff together?” The angel stared at Dean with a furrowing brow, seeming to, yet again, not understand the humor from the supposed joke he was trying to make. Dean rolled his eyes once more in frustration. “Give me one good reason why Y/N and I should do this.”  
“Because you’re Michael’s vessel, and no angel will dare harm you.”  
“Oh, so now I’m your bullet shield?”  
"I need your help, because you and Y/N are the only two who will help me.” Cas tried again, but this time, you could hear the pleading in his voice from the resort he was put into. “Please.”  
Cas had done a lot of things for you, the least either one of you could do was return the favor. “All right. Fine.” Dean agreed, knowing well enough he was outnumbered in this argument. “Where is he?”  
“Maine.” Cas answered. He reached up both of his arms, “Let’s go.”  
“Whoa, whoa!” Dean backed away before Cas could press his two fingers against his forehead. You furrowed your brow in concern and asked him what was wrong. But his answer made you regret ever asking in the first place. “Last time I got zapped someplace, I didn’t poop for a week. We’re driving.”  
\+ + +  
Six hours later, a new motel, along with a change of clothing, you and Dean arrived at the police station in the late morning with Cas sitting in the backseat. The Impala was parked safely against the curb before you got yourself out of the passenger’s side, your heels hitting the empty street as your eyes wandered to the police station that was just over the way. You tugged at your skirt and made the necessary fixes to your outfit like you normally did, Cas gotten out himself and slammed the door shut, Dean glared at him from how rough he was with Baby.  
“We’re here why?” Dean asked, finding it rather odd to be starting the search off here.  
“A deputy sheriff laid eyes on the archangel.” Cas explained as he circled around the car to where Dean was standing.  
“And he still has eyes?” You couldn’t help yourself but ask. Cas didn’t answer, you presumed the conversation would be better if you moved onto more important questions. “All right, what’s the plan?”  
“We tell the officer that he witnessed an angel of the Lord. Then the officer will tell us where the angel is.” Cas explained with the utmost serious expression. Yet, despite the plan he must have thought was brilliant, you found yourself trying your hardest not to laugh as your lips stretched themselves into a smile, thinking this was some joke. Cas, however, didn’t find your reaction very appropriate. “Isn’t this how you and the Winchesters solve cases?”  
“No, Cas. That’s how you get yourself a weekend stay at the mental ward in the hospital. You’re seriously gonna walk in there and tell him the truth?” You asked him, Cas nodded his head. You let out a very quiet sigh as you shook your head. Reaching a hand into his pocket, Dean pulled out a badge for him and inspected it for a moment before deeming it just right for him. Cas asked why his plan wouldn’t work. “Because we’re humans. And when humans want something, really, really bad…” You reached out and opened up his suit jacket where you slipped the badge inside. But he couldn’t walk in there like a man coming home from a stressful day at work. You quickly did up the top button of his shirt and fixed his tie so it was neat. “We lie.”  
Cas looked at you with a confused expression, “Why?”  
“Because,” You stepped back to take a quick inspection of him to make sure he looked decent enough. “That’s how you become president.”  
Cas didn’t understand what you were trying to say, but you didn’t let him think too long about the explanation of what you had mentioned. You lightly tugged on his arm and nodded your head to start walking in the station to get this started. The three of you headed inside, and after speaking to a friendly receptionist up front, you found the deputy speaking with another officer.  
“Deputy Framingham? Hi,” You greeted the deputy with a friendly smile as you pulled out your badge for him to inspect it. Dean followed just seconds later, knowing the routine. “Grace Slick, FBI. These are my partners, Alonzo Mosely and Eddie Moscone.” When you gotten the first part of the undercover cop done, you tucked the badge away and casually glanced over at Cas, wondering how he was doing. He just stood there, staring straight ahead at the officer, seeming not to have a clue of what to do. You cleared your throat and gave the officer a smile. “Also FBI.”  
You watched as he slipped a hand inside his jacket pocket, pulling out the fake badge you had given him, he flipped open the leather pouch, letting the officer examine the ID. But he wasn’t exactly holding it right when you noticed it was upside down. You closed your eyes for a split second in embarrassment as Dean reached out a hand to quickly rip the badge of the angel’s hand before placing it back in properly.  
“He’s, uh, he’s new.” Dean whispered to the officer when he noticed the strange stares. “Mind if we ask you a few questions?”  
“Yeah. Sure. Talk here, though.” Deputy Framingham said, pointing a finger to his right ear as he walked to his office with the three of you following behind. “Hearing’s all blown to hell in this one.”  
“That happened recently?” You asked, taking one of the seats right across from his desk.  
“Yeah—the gas-station thing.” He said. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”  
“Yes, it is.” Dean answered, cautiously clearing his throat to not appear caught off guard. He stood in the middle after Cas took the only available seat next to you. “Do you mind just, uh, running us through what happened?”  
“Well, call came in—disturbance out at the Pump ‘n’ Go on route four.” The deputy said. You asked him what kind of situation it had ended up being for him. “Would not have believed it my eyes if I hadn’t seen it myself. We’re talking a riot—full-scale. Thirty, forty people. In all-out, kill-or-be-killed combat.“  
"Any idea what set them off?” You asked the officer.  
“It’s angels and demons, probably.” Cas answered before the deputy could. You could feel your gaze lingering away from Framingham and to the angel sitting right next to you from the response you warned him about giving. “They’re skirmishing all over the globe.”  
“Come again?” Deputy Framingham asked. “What did he say?”  
“Demons.”  
“Nothing.”  
You tried to brush off the situation as nothing, hoping a smile to the deputy would make him forget the situation all together, but Cas was persistent. Your fingers curled into a loose fist when he spoke right in sync as you did. You cautiously looked at him in the eye to give him a warning.  
“Nothing.”  
“Demons.”  
“Demons, you know—drink, adultery. We all have our demons, Walt. Right?” Dean managed to roll this situation into one that you could use, hoping the deputy couldn’t look at Cas with even more of a confused face. Framingham moved his gaze over to you, but his expression seemed to have stayed. “Anyway, what happened next?”  
“Freakin’ explosion, that’s what. They said it was one of those underground gas tanks, but, uh, I don’t think so.” Deputy Framingham said, shaking his head. You gave him a curious look, wondering why he would think that. “It wasn’t your usual fireball. It was, um…”  
“Pure white.” Cas said, finishing the thought for the man.  
“Yeah.” The deputy agreed. “Gas station was leveled. Everyone was… it was just horrible. Then I see this one guy, kneeling there, real focused-like. Not a damn scratch on him.”  
“You know him?” Dean asked.  
Deputy Framingham nodded, “Donnie Finnerman—mechanic there.”  
"And let me guess,” Dean decided to try and sum up this situation himself before Cas could. “He just, uh…vanished into thin air?”  
“Uh, no, Kolchak.” The deputy said. “He’s down at St. Pete’s.”  
Cas turned to look at you after hearing the response, “St. Pete’s.”  
\+ + +  
The three of you headed over to St. Pete’s to see if you could find this Donnie Finnerman and have a talk about what he had witnessed himself at the massacre. You furrowed your brow slightly when you examined his almost lifeless stare as he looked out the window. The poor man was almost a shell of his old self.  
“I take it that’s not Raphael anymore.” Dean remarked.  
“Just an empty vessel.” Cas explained to the both of you.  
“So,” Dean examined the man for a few moments when a question lingered in the back of his mind. “Is this what I’m looking at when Michael jumps my bones?”  
“No, not all.” Cas said, “Michael is much more powerful. It’ll be far worse for you.”  
\+ + +  
You glanced around at the abandoned house Cas had told you to meet him at midnight sharp, for whatever reason that might be. The place was far from town, a once quiet little farm house from what you could presume, was now overtaken with weeds and thrown to the natural elements to wear and tear. You managed to find a table and chair that were salvageable enough to use. Dean kept himself occupied by brushing up on some reading from his father’s journal, curious to see if he could find any useful information for what the three of you were about to do. Cas, very briefly, explained what needed to be done in order to make this work just right before he just disappeared yet again, like he always did.   
You looked up when you heard the familiar rustling of feathers and saw Cas standing just across the room. “Finally. Where have you been?”  
“Jerusalem.” Cas answered for you.  
“Oh.” Dean replied with a sarcastic eagerness. “How was it?”  
Cas walked over to the table you were sitting at and set down what appeared to be a clay pot, and from the sounds of the sloshing around, there was some sort of liquid inside. “Arid.”  
“What is that?” You asked, pointing a finger at the pot.  
“It’s oil.” Cas explained as he took a seat across from you. “Its very special and very rare.”  
“Okay, are we gonna trap Raphael with a nice vinaigrette?” Dean asked, Cas answered with a no. “So, this ritual of yours, when’s it got to go down?”  
“Sunrise.”  
You looked around the room, wondering what the three of you were going to do to pass the time, or what the risks you were going to take in order to do this. “Tell me something—you keep saying we’re gonna trap this guy,” You said, your eyes wandering over to Cas, “But isn’t that kind of like trapping a hurricane with a butterfly net?”  
“No.” Cas said. “It’s harder.”  
“How reassuring.” You muttered underneath your breath. “Do we have any chances of surviving this?”  
Cas shook his head, “You two do.”  
“So, odds are, you’re a dead man tomorrow?” Dean couldn’t help himself but ask, knowing the last time the two were in a room together, Cas got blown to smithereens. The angel nodded his head to answer the hunter’s question. “Well, last night on earth. What are your plans?”  
“I just thought I’d set here quietly.” Cas said, seeming rather too casual about what might happen.  
You let out a quiet laugh, thinking for a moment the angel had learned some humor, but from the nonchalant expression that never left his face, you slowly grew quieter when you realized he was serious. “Dude. Come on. Anything? Hmm? Booze, women?” Dean asked, hounding the man for something to do. You looked over at Cas to see him rubbing the back of his neck before he dropped his gaze to the floor, avoiding eye contact. You furrowed your brow, wondering what was making him so nervous. It took a second before you realized what it was. “You have been with a woman before, right? Or an angel at least?”  
“Dean,” You muttered the hunter’s name with a hiss. “Don’t be so…personal.”  
“You mean to tell me you’ve never been up there doing a little cloud-seeding?”  
“Look, I’ve never had the occasion, okay?” Cas answered the hunter, hoping the questions about what he didn’t do in his free time would stop and the attention would be drawn away from him after it was making him rather uncomfortable.  
The older Winchester finally grew quiet, seeming that it was taking him a moment to process the information. You hoped yourself that this conversation would dwindle away to something else, but that wasn’t Dean’s style. He headed over to the chair you were occupying so he could take his jacket from the back of his chair before putting it on. "Let me tell you something. There are two things that I know for certain. One, Bert and Ernie are gay.”  
“Two, Cas is not gonna die a virgin. Not on my watch.” Dean said. “Let’s go.”  
You watched as the man walked to the front door, having every intent to get this party started. You stayed back for a moment and looked over at the angel, who was beginning to look like a deer in headlights. He looked over at you, almost unsure of what he should do. You shrugged your shoulders, ever so slightly curious to see where the night would take you.


	9. Free To Be You And Me part 2

You thought the night would take you to a bar, not a brothel. For a second you wondered if this was even legal. The place was crawling with men and scantily clad women. You had nothing against how people made their money, looking down at someone who sold themselves for money was almost comical for someone like you—who stole people’s identity and hustled drunks at bars. What you were having a problem with was how the poor angel that sat across from your right in the black leather booth was reacting. He stared at the scenery with absolute terror, and it wasn’t because of the dim fluorescent lighting or the deep hues of purple and black color scheme. You glanced over at Dean, who seemed like he was in Heaven from what he was surrounded with  
“Hey,” Dean seemed to have found himself being pulled out of his trance long enough to see how Cas was doing. The angel sat across from him with widening eyes and tensing facial features, almost making it appear he was close to having a panic attack. “Relax, man.”  
“This is a den of iniquity.” Cas whispered. “I should not be here.”  
“Dude, you full-on rebelled against Heaven. Iniquity is one of the perks.” Dean said, trying to sweet talk the angel into doing something that was obviously making him uncomfortable. You kept yourself quiet as you traced the rim of the glass full of the alcoholic beverage you didn’t even really want, but Dean insisted upon you having. Dean turned his head ever so slightly to see a potential lady come into his view, and from the looks of it, her eyes were targeted on Cas. “Showtime.”  
A woman, who looked to be no younger than the age of twenty, came strolling over with a seductive grin across her lips when she noticed the free man up for grabs. “Hi.” She greeted the angel with a flirty and friendly tone. “What’s your name?”  
The angel fell dead silent, his gaze lingered away from the woman, and if you could tell from the dim lighting, he was actually blushing. “Cas!” He shouted the angel’s name, making the poor fellow nearly jump out of his skin from surprise. “His name is Cas. And what’s your name, sweetheart?”  
“Chasity.” She answered, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder.  
“Chasity? Wow. Is that kismet or what, Buddy?” Dean said with a light hearted grin. You wanted to gag yourself from how tacky the name was as you looked over at Cas, wondering how he was still handling the pressure being throw on him without a choice. Your eyebrows shot up when you saw the angel reach for his beer and started chugging like there was no tomorrow. “Well, he likes you, and you like him, so…dayenu.”  
The woman named Chasity leaned down to grab Cas by his hand and started leading him to the back where only clients were allowed. Dean reached for his glass to take another sip of his beer and looked over at you, thinking you would be sharing the same amused expression as he, but you stared at him, slowly shaking your head in disapproval. Dean slowly looked away, and only then did he realize that he was throwing Cas to the wolves—without any money.  
Dean got up from his seat and quickly shoved a hand inside his jacket, pulling out a small wad of twenties and stopped the two for just a moment. He handed the money to Cas, who stared at him with the continuous look of panic, but with the money now resting in his hand, a small twinge of confusion crossed by. “Oh, hey. Listen. Take this. If she asks for a credit card, no. Now, just stick to the basics okay? Do not order off the menu.” Dean instructed to the man, for he’s done this far too many times for your personal comfort to think about. “Go get ‘em, tiger.” Cas didn’t listen, he just stood there with the same terrified expression, unsure of he wanted to do this. “Don’t make me push you.”  
Cas did he was told, holding the money tight in his grip, you watched as he headed to the back of the curtain with Chasity, disappearing from your sight just a moment later. You occupied yourself by taking slow sips of your drink, and ignoring every chance you could to avoid eye contact with Dean when he sat back down with you. A moment of silence passed between the both of you, making you wonder why you agreed to even come here in the first place. You were against this plan all together, but when Dean sunk his teeth into an idea, it was hard to stray him from the plan. “So,” You mumbled as you reached for your glass to take one final sip. “How was your night, before we ruined it that is.”  
“Same old, (y/n)” he answered, slurring, “I go to the bar, get drunk, find the prettiest one and lay my moves on her till she practically throws herself on me.”  
You snorted at his reply. “Dean, you’re forgetting I have been with you long enough to see that obvious lie.”  
“No lies in it, (y/n). The ladies love me.” He said, giving you a cheeky smile.  
“Alright, well. Since, I ruined tonight for you… I’ll make it up to you.”  
“How exactly?”  
You tilted your head towards the other women standing near the bar. “See anyone you like? My treat.”  
“As much as I love that,” Dean agreed with you on that point, “tonight I’m yours.”   
You rolled your eyes at his cheekiness but as you opened your mouth to tell him it was time to wrap up the night, what came out next was a loud pitched scream, coming from behind the curtain. Both of you headed over and pushed back the purple velvet curtain to see what the commotion was about. A long hallway of open doors with women and their clients stood frozen to stare at the scene which was unfolding. You looked straight ahead to see Chasity standing in the middle of the way with her back turned to you, and with Cas standing in the doorway of her room, with a disheveled appearance. But from how she was reacting, it seemed neither of them were satisfied customers.  
“Get out of my face! No! Leave me alone!” Chastity screamed on the top of her lungs, throwing her heels at the angel to try and inflict pain upon him. “Bastard! Screw you, jerk! I’ll kill you!” You stood there with a baffled look on your face, wondering what had happened to make her this mad. Chasity huffed out a breath and turned around in her spot, deciding she needed a drink after the client from Hell. You stepped back when you crossed paths with her, she leaned forward at Dean to yell a slur of profanities at him. “Screw you, too! God!”  
“What the hell did you do?” You asked the angel, walking forward to figure out what went wrong.  
“I don’t know. I just looked at her in the eyes and told her it wasn’t her fault that her father, Gene, ran off.” Cas admitted, shrugging his shoulders. “It was because he hated his job at the post office.”  
“Oh, no, man.” Dean said, chuckling to himself at the mishap. “This whole industry runs on absent fathers. It’s the natural order.”  
While Dean found himself amused enough to let out a laugh, you looked over your shoulder to see the fun was about to cut short. You patted Dean on the shoulder when you noticed two men heading your way, and from the looks of it, they weren’t exactly happy from the story Chastity would have told them. “We should go.” You said. You looked forward to see there was an exit, a perfect way to make an escape before being thrown out. “Come on.”  
The three of you headed down the staircase, all while you cautiously looked over your shoulder, wondering if the bouncers from upstairs would catch up. You managed to get out of the place without anymore of a hassle, you pushed open the door to the alleyway and stepped out into the cold night air. While you turned around with an annoyed expression on your face, Dean seemed to have an opposite reaction, for he was laughing, something you hadn’t seen him do in such a long time.  
“What’s so funny?” Cas asked, unsure of what was so amusing for the man.  
“Oh, nothing.” Dean said. He swung up an arm and rested it against Cas’ shoulder, leading him to the parked Impala just a few feet away. “It’s been a long time since I’ve laughed that hard. Oh, it’s been more than a long time. Years.”  
You couldn’t help yourself but allow the smallest smile to start spreading across your lips, happy to see Dean having a bit of fun, after everything that was going down.   
\+ + +  
You peeked out of the blinds from the quiet hospital room on the very early morning. The three of you were occupying the room of Donnie Finnerman, a man who was the last known vessel to the infamous archangel Raphael.  
Cas occupied himself by grabbing the pot from the table he previously set it down after arriving and began walking forward to the man, tracing his steps into a circle as he began pouring the oil all over the floor. “When the oil burns, no angel can touch or pass through the flames, or he dies.”  
“Okay. So we trap him in a steel cage of holy fire. But, uh, one question,” Dean said, bringing up an interesting point you wondered yourself. “How the hell do we get him here?”  
“There’s–well, almost an open phone line, between a vessel and his angel. One just has to know how to dial.” Cas explained to the both of you. He set down the clay pot to the table and walked over to the man, where he then crouched down to his level. You furrowed your brow slightly in confusion, but it began to make sense of what he was doing when he began chanting something in a foreign language you couldn’t understand, enochian, if you were correct. “I’m here, Raphael. Come and get me, you little bastard.”  
“Just out of curiosity,” You said, wondering how much longer this was going to take until this would begin. “the average customer wait time to speak to an archangel is…?”  
“Be ready.” Cas warned you.  
The angel grabbed the matchbook from his trench coat pocket and pulled out a match. Striking the tip against the box, a small flame ignited, Cas threw it to the ground where he poured the oil, and not a second later, you watched as a ring of fire danced around the floor. You let out a quiet breath of reassurance as you crossed your arms over your chest, reassuring yourself that this was going to go smooth, and you weren’t going to have to try and pick off fragments of skin or molars of Cas’ vessel from your hair when Raphael decided to make his appearance.


	10. Free To Be You And Me part 3

“Well, that’s a day I’ll never get back.”  
You rubbed your eyes from the passenger side of the Impala, trying your hardest not to fall asleep from the wasted hours spent standing around the hospital room. Darkness had fallen once more after you decided to call it quits when the plan Cas had come up with failed miserably. The three of you headed back to the house with the intent of grabbing your stuff and leaving, knowing it was pretty obvious Raphael didn’t appear when called for. You got out of the car when it finally stopped and made your way for the front door first, not thinking much of it when you opened it up and took a step to head inside, but you stopped in your tracks when Cas jumped in front of you.  
“Y/N, wait.” Cas said, you gave him an annoyed glare for what he’d done.  
Your attention was turned away from the angel when you looked ahead, knowing just a moment later what his warming was about. It seemed that you had a guest, and he wanted to make his appearance well known. The entire first floor of the house erupted with sparks when every single lightbulb exploded, sending fragments of glass flying into the air, making you flinch in surprise, but Cas stared straight on, his lips curling into the smallest of a smile, knowing his plan had worked.  
“Castiel.”  
“Raphael.”  
“I mean, I thought you were supposed to be impressive.” Dean followed behind you and Cas when you began walking forward to the archangel, but still keeping a safe distance away. “All you do is black out the room?”  
“And the eastern seaboard.” Raphael replied. Not a second later, a crash of thunder and strike of lighting came out of nowhere, you looked over your shoulder to see there was a storm brewing outside. You nervously swallowed as you slowly drew your gaze back to him. “It is a testament to my unending mercy that I don’t smite you here and now.”  
“Or maybe you’re full of crap.” Dean said, deciding to push his luck to see how far he could go before seeing fatal consequences. Raphael seemed to be ever so slightly amused, he arched his vessel’s brow. “Maybe you’re afraid that God will bring Cas back to life again and smite your candy-ass skirt. By the way–Hi. I’m Dean.”  
“I know who you are.” Raphael said, It seemed that he hadn’t paid attention to you yet as you stood behind Dean. “And now, thanks to Castiel, I know where you are.”  
“You won’t kill me. You sons of bitches you need me.” Dean said. A bolt of lightening came from behind, enginititng the room into a brightness for just a moment. “You wouldn’t dare.”  
Raphael agreed to a certain length of what he said, “But I will take him to Michael.”  
“Well, that sounds terrifying. It does. But, uh, I hate to tell you,” Dean spoke up, pretending to act casual about what was happening. You watched from the corner of your eye as the man began walking to the cooler right across the room. He bent down and pushed open the lid, snatching a beer to enjoy when he twisted off the top and threw it down to the ground, discarding it without a care. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”  
“Surely you remember Zachariah giving you stomach cancer.” Raphael said. Dean stopping sipping on his beer and turned back around in his spot, “Yes, well…he doesn’t have anything close to my imagination.”  
“I bet you didn’t imagine one thing.”  
“What?” Raphael asked you with the least bit of interest.  
"We knew you were coming,” Dean said with a growing smirk. “You stupid son of a bitch.”  
With the simple flick of your thumb, you worked the lighter fast enough to throw it towards the ground, exactly on the spot where Cas had poured the oil for a second plan, just in case the first one didn’t exactly worked. You stepped back in caution as another ring of holy fire trapped Raphael in his spot, rendering him powerless. Dean wandered over to where you stood after he took notice of the nasty glare settling on the archangel’s face from what had been done.  
“Hey, don’t look at me.” Dean said, trying to defend himself by shifting the blame to Cas. “It was his idea.”  
Cas asked the important question, the one which was why all of you were here. “Where is He?”  
“God? Didn’t you hear? He’s dead, Castiel. Dead.” Raphael replied. None of you believed the information the archangel was saying, for there had to be more than what he was leading with, and it seemed he could sense your hesitance. “There’s no other explanation. He’s gone for good.”  
“You’re lying.” Cas said.  
“Am I? Do you remember the twentieth century? Think the twenty-first is going any better?” Raphael questioned the other angel. “You think God would have let any of that happen if he were alive?”  
Dean, being the man that he was, decided to make this conversation a little bit lighter by adding humor that was always timed perfectly wrong. “Oh, yeah? Well, then who invented the chinese basket trick?”  
“Careful.” Raphael warned the young man. “That’s my father you’re talking about, boy.”  
“Yeah, who would be so proud to know that his sons started the friggin’ apocalypse.“ Dean said, not giving an ounce of sympathy for what he was hearing.  
"Who ran off and disappeared.” Raphael defend himself. “Who left no instructions and a world to run.  
"So, Daddy ran away and disappeared?” Dean asked, approaching the touchy subject with careless remarks after seeing a connection from yesterday’s events. “He didn’t happen to work for the post office, did he?”  
Raphael wasn’t the least bit amused from the hunter’s humor he was quickly growing tired of with each passing second. “This is funny to you? You’re living in a Godless universe.”  
“And? What–you and the other kids just decide to throw an apocalypse while he’s gone?” Dean questioned the archangel with a bit of bite to his tone.  
“We’re tired. We just want it to be over. We just want…” Raphael wanted what both sides wanted, a way out to face the problems of humanity. “Paradise.”  
“So, what–God does and makes you the boss, and you think you can do whatever you want?” You found yourself asking a question, knowing there was so much at stake. “There’s billions of people here you’re going to kill because you’re too much of a coward to face responsibility. And you’re okay with that?”  
"Yes.” Raphael’s answer was what you should have expected. “And whatever we want, we get.”  
Before you realized what was happening, you heard a loud crashing sound, all before you were bending down to shield yourself from the shards of broken glass and wood that were aimed to your backside after Raphael retaliated, by breaking the window. The downpour from outside quickly came in, soaking you to the bone as the thunder continued on and the wind blew even harder. “If God is dead, why have I returned?” Cas asked, using the last point you had against the archangel to get the honest truth you wanted to hear. “Who brought me back?”  
“Did it ever occur to you that maybe Lucifer raised you?” Raphael presumed, you could feel a terrible shiver run down your spine from the unwanted presumption. You knew the reaction wasn’t caused from your freezing cold and soaking wet clothes. “Think about it. He needs all the rebellious angels he can find. You know it adds up. And after all, you have her on your side.” He added, gesturing towards you.  
Cas thought about it for a moment, what he meant before Raphael spoke again in a taunting tone. “So typical of you to ally with her who brought this upon the world.” His words had all three of you confused, and he could see it. “Please do not tell me you don’t know who she is, Castiel. Or rather, what she is.”   
“I don’t know what you’re saying Raphael.” He answered honestly.  
Castiel’s reply just made him laugh. “She’s The Anchor, Castiel. The Diomhair, The Vetiti, whatever you want to call her.”  
You and Dean noticed how Castiel’s eyes widened in thought and realization on hearing Raphael’s words.   
“Let’s go.” Cas said, nodding his head at you and Dean.  
“Castiel.” The archangel called out the other angel’s name, making him stop in his tracks while he headed for the journey, making his escape while the three of you still could. “I’m warning you. Do not leave me here. I will find you.”  
“Maybe one day.” Cas said, agreeing with the archangel on his threat. But he wasn’t afraid for what was to come, because in this very moment, he controlled all the power, and he wanted to make it known. “But today, you’re my little bitch.”  
You shook your head and began heading out into the storm, leaving the archangel trapped, hopefully long enough to make an escape before he could keep the promises of unimaginable torture. You decided it would be better and safer to follow Cas’ lead for now instead of interrogating an archangel yourself.  
\+ + +  
Everyone was silent, Dean in the driver’s seat and Cas in the passenger side, the only noise was the occasional drizzle of rain and the humming of the engine. Slowly, you closed your eyelids, embracing the sleep that was calling your name. It was a minute later you heard the silence be broke from Dean’s voice, and while his quiet tone didn’t bother you, it was the curiosity to find out what both men were talking about that kept you alert.  
“Hey, man, you okay?” Dean asked out of concern, but the angel didn’t answer. He kept staring out the window and to the empty road ahead of them, sort of what Sam did when he was too upset to talk. “Look, I’ll be the first to tell you that this little crusade of yours is nuts, but, I do know a little something about missing fathers.”  
“What do you mean?” Cas asked.  
“I mean there were times when I was looking for my dad when all logic said he was dead. But I knew, in my heart, that he was still alive.” Dean said, sharing a bit of information that he rarely shared with anyone in hopes it would help the angel gain some confidence after the failed interrogation. “Who cares what some ninja turtle says, Cas? What do you believe?”  
Cas delayed his answer, keeping a moment of silence between the both of them before admitting his true feelings. “I believe he’s out there.”  
“Good.” Dean said. “Then go find him.”  
The angel contemplated about taking up the offer to leave once more to continue his journey. But he felt something different in the air, a sense of strangeness kept Cas in the passenger’s side seat where Sam should have been. “What about you?”  
“What about me? I don’t know.” Dean admitted. With a little more bit process to his emotions, the hunter changed his answer to a better one that felt right. "Honestly? I’m good. I can’t believe I’m saying that, but I am. I’m…I’m really good.”  
“Even without your brother?” Cas asked, bringing up the dreaded question.  
“Especially without my brother. I mean, I spent so much time worry about the son of a bitch. It’s better that he stays away. I’ve had more fun with you and Y/N in the past twenty-four hours than I’ve had with Sam in years. And you’re not that much fun.” Dean said, finding himself rambling off into thought, not sure where the honesty stopped, and the lying began. "It’s funny. You know, I’ve been so chained to my family, pushing off what I really want for them. But now that it’s just Y/N and me…hell, I’m happy.”  
Cas nodded along to what Dean was saying before he spoke up again.  
“And uh… wanna tell me what he meant about (y/n) back the—" Dean turned his gaze away from the road to look at the passenger side, expecting to see Cas there, listening, but the seat was empty.  
\+ + +  
Clutching the motel sheets closer to your chest, you let out a frustrated sigh as you tossed around in the bed until you were resting on your left side, hoping to find the perfect spot on the mattress that would make sleep come a little faster. You had your eyes closed for all of five seconds before you opened them right up, only to be graced with an empty and dark room, with no chance of sleep to come. You thought taking a hot shower might help the restless mind of yours, but at three a.m., it seemed you were just getting started on deconstructing every little aspect of your life. The endless amount of questions that had now only increased kept springing up.


	11. The End part 1

Dean found a parking spot against the sidewalk and straighten out the Impala until it was perfect. Killing the engine, he let out a sigh of relief to know that you made it in one piece, and a comfortable bed was just a few hundred feet away. You opened up the driver’s side door and slammed it shut. Both of you grabbed your belongings from the backseat and headed to the sidewalk. Your attention was straight ahead on the person running the front desk in the motel, you walked past a man standing next to the door holding flyers and preaching the word of the impending doom.  
“Excuse me, friend,” You were a few feet away from the door when you stopped in your tracks to see the man had come forward to you. “But have you taken time out to think about God’s plan for you?”  
Your lips stretched into a faint smile from his words, “God doesn’t have a plan for me. I’m not His child.”  
“Of course you are.” The man said as he let out a small laugh, thinking you were pulling his leg by .making him presume you were a nonbeliever of a higher power. “He has a plan for all of us.”  
“No, I’m not.” You whispered to him. “I’m the reason why the Devil’s here on earth and my best friend is his sworn vessel. So, yeah, I’m sure God doesn’t have a plan for me.”  
You wished the man a good night with a friendly smile, letting the truth that had been burning in the back of your mind over the past few weeks finally be let out, only for it to come across as a sarcastic ploy to get some bible thumper out of your way. He thought you were joking when he started chuckling ever so slightly, while starting to slowly back away.  
\+ + +  
You managed to kick off your shoes and rest yourself against the most comfortable looking thing you’ve seen in the past twenty-four hours, the motel bed. You looked away from the wall you had been staring at and glanced over to the window, watching as Dean kept himself busy before you retreating back to his room.  
“We’re talking about the colt, right?” You asked. You sat on the bed with your cell phone on speaker so you and Dean could have a conversation with Cas, who had not even called you five minutes ago. He brought up some interesting news that seemed more like a blessing in disguise from what you had been thinking about. “I mean, as in _the _colt?”  
“We are.” Cas said.  
“Well, that doesn’t make any sense.” You said, watching for a moment as Dean wandered over to the small kitchen area directly across the bed to grab a beer from the fridge. “I mean, why would the demons keep a gun around that, uh, kills demons?”  
“What? What? Did—” You overheard what sounded like a truck passing by Cas, making you realize he must be standing at the edge of the highway while having this conversation. “I didn't—I didn’t get that.”  
Dean couldn’t help himself but let out a quiet laugh, finding the image a funnier than it should have been. “You know, it’s kind of funny, talking to a messenger of God on a cellphone. It’s, you know, like watching a hell’s angel ride a moped.”  
“This isn’t funny, Dean.” Cas said with a serious tone. “The voice says I’m almost out of minutes.”  
“All right, all right.” You mumbled, “I’m telling you, Cas, the demons have melted the gun by now.”  
“Well, I hear differently. And if it’s true and if you are still set on the insane task of killing the Devil,” Cas argued with you, making you subconsciously roll your eyes in frustration at hearing just the mention of Lucifer’s name.. “This is how we do it.”  
“All right.” Dean agreed with him, joining on in the conversation. “Where do we start?”  
“Where are you two now?” Cas asked.  
“Kansas City.” You said. “Century Hotel, room one-thirteen.”  
“I’ll be there immediately.” Cas said not a second later.  
“What? No, no, dude. No.” Dean complained. He wandered over to the bed, grabbing the phone from your hand as you tossed the keys to the nightstand. “Y/N and I have been stuck in the car for the past sixteen hours together. We’re still human. And there’s stuff I’d liked to do. Eat, for example. And for this case, sleep.” Cas agreed with the plan. You dropped yourself to the middle of the bed in a horizontal position and closed your eyes, letting the exhaustion you’ve been fighting off slowly take over your aching muscles. “Okay, so, you can pop in tomorrow morning.”  
“Yes. I’ll just—” Cas tried to speak, but before he could finish his sentence, he heard the line from your end go dead. Dean tossed the phone to the edge of the bed as you rested the crook of your arm over your shoulder, deciding to spend fifteen minutes in this position before taking a much needed shower. You didn’t realize you left the angel standing in the middle of the night at the edge of the empty highway, staring at his cell phone with confusion. When he realized you had hung up on him, he shut his phone and looked straight on, deciding this is how he would spend the next four hours. “Wait here, then.”  
\+ + +  
You must have fallen asleep for longer than you expected, because when you finally came back around, it felt like you had been out of it for years. You looked around for Dean before realising that he’d gotten himself his own room and must’ve been sleeping there. With a strange feeling in your gut, you immediately headed over to his room and knocked on the door. You waited and when he didn’t answer for the second time, you thought he must be too deep into sleep and called his phone but it rang all the way with no answer.

Everything in his room looked like it was stripped bare and exposed to years of wear and tear. He pushed himself to his feet and cautiously glanced around the room, noticing the paint had faded and chipped away, leaving nothing more than a dull color with shades of brown from mildew. The objects in the room weren’t in better condition, everything was broken or tipped over, neglect for someone to take care of them was evident from the way it ended up.   
It took only a moment before he wasn’t in Kansas anymore.  
\+ + +  
It seemed that he’d stepped into an episode of the Twilight Zone. He checked every room on the floor, there wasn’t a sign of human life beside the garbage they left to rot. The streets were empty. He couldn’t see a sign of anyone, not a single soul to tell him what was going on.   
But his attention was focused on the eight letter word spray painted in crimson red.  
“Croatoan.” He whispered to himself.   
If he thought things couldn’t have gotten any worse, it did. His eyes drifted away from the word when he noticed a shadowy figure dance across the brick wall. He could feel his eyes widened when he saw a group of people shuffling forward to him. When he noticed the speed was starting to grow into a sprint after they spotted the target, he bolted out of there.  
He ran fast as he could out of the alleyway and back into the isolated streets. Dean stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted a large metal fence, a dead end. He let out a frustrated breath as he began examining the fence, but it seemed there was somebody looking out for him.  
Years into the future, in a world where Dean didn’t say yes to Micheal. That’s where Zachariah had thrown Dean into. And making his way through Sioux falls, he finally stumbles across what looked like a camp but before he could inspect more, he was rendered unconscious by someone he didn’t see coming.  
\+ + +  
A dull, throbbing pain in the back of his head greeted him when he found himself slowly coming back into consciousness. He slowly began to register his surroundings with closed eyes as he felt himself sitting in an upright position, his back pressed against something that felt uncomfortable and lumpy. His eyes ripped wide open when he heard the sound of metal clanking together and a coldness touch his wrist. He immediately realized not a second later someone had handcuffed him to a metal ladder. he found his head snapping straight forward when you heard the sound of someone jamming a magazine clip into a gun. “What the hell?”  
There was a man sitting at a table right across the room, he distanced himself from Dean, but kept himself busy by putting back together an assault rifle. He nervously swallowed when he made eye contact with the stranger with a same pair of green eyes just like him. “Shouldn’t be I asking that question, don’t you think?” “In fact,” He watched as the second Dean lowered, ignoring the surprised reaction. “Why don’t you give me one good reason why I shouldn’t gank you right here and now?”  
“Because you’d be only hurting yourself.” Dean responded, hoping a bit of humor might help lighten the mood. It seemed to have done the trick, his doppleganger positioned the gun straight up in the air, continuing on loading it up right in front of you. “Look, man, I’m not a shapeshifter or demon or anything, okay?”  
“Yeah, I know. I did the drill while you were out. Silver, salt, holy water—nothing.” Future Dean put down he was tinkering with onto the table so he could shift around his seat. “But you know what was funny? Was that you had every hidden lock pick, box cutter, and switchblade that I carry. Now, you want to explain that? Oh, and the, uh…resemblance, while you’re at it?”  
Looking over at the older man, Dean, present Dean, admitted the truth by speaking an old name he should have very well remembered. “Zachariah.”  
Dean, the one across the room, didn’t hide his surprise from hearing the name he hadn’t heard in a long time. He pushed his chair backwards, letting the legs scratch across the floor, all before he was pushing himself to his feet and looked down at him to give you a skeptical look. “Come again?”  
“I’m you from the tail end of 2009. Zach plucked me from my bed and threw me five years into the future.” Dean explained to his future self, hoping that could help clear up a few misconceptions that were going on here.  
“Where is he?” Dean, the future version, questioned. “I want to talk to him.”  
he shrugged his shoulders and admitted, “I don’t know.”  
“Oh, you don’t know.” Future Dean repeated, almost mocking his answer.  
“Did you happen to become deaf in the past five years? Like I said, I don’t know.” he replied yet again, “Look, i just want to get back to my own freaking year, okay? Not to mention, seeing…this,” he gestured to the two of him“It’s kind of freaking me out. I just want to go back to our time. And i sure as hell didn’t ask to be a part of this.”  
“Okay, if you’re me…” He pointed his finger at the younger man. “The tell me something only I would know.”  
The man sitting next to you with his wrist handcuffed to the ladder scoffed at the request, rolling his eyes in annoyance. He didn’t know exactly what he could say in order to get himself to prove that he was himself. He thought about an answer as he glanced around the room, before admitting to the pink panties story.  
His future self fell silent, processing the answer, knowing well enough he was right, that little bit of information was something he hadn’t told anyone but himself. Dean nodded his head at the younger man’s response, deciding that it was enough to believe this situation. “So, what—Zach zapped you up here to see how bad it gets?”  
“I guess.” He admitted, thinking there wasn’t too much else he could presume for the time jump. “Croatoan virus, right? That’s their endgame?”  
“It’s efficient, it’s incurable, and it’s scary as hell.” Dean explained the situation to him as he loaded up a duffel bag full of the weapons. “Turns people into monsters. Started hitting the major cities about two years ago. World really went in the crapper after that.”  
“What about Sam?”  
Dean stopped packing when he heard the name, it was almost as if it had brought back a few bitter memories that he wished to forget. He looked over at him to answer his 4question, despite not wanting to open up old wounds. “Heavyweight showdown in Detroit.” He said, telling him what he knew. “From what I understand, Sam didn’t make it.”  
“What?” he asked, his voice suddenly coming out quiet. “What happened?”  
“Me and Sam, we hadn’t talked in, hell, five years.” Dean listened to the information, and from the look on his face, it was as if someone punched him right in the gut after hearing his little brother didn’t share the same fate as him.   
“What about (y/n)?”  
Mention of your name brought out an expression to his face that was difficult for even Dean to read, considering it was his own face.  
“Look, I would love to frolic down memory lane, but I got other people to worry about. And I got to run an errand.” He said, picking up his bag, but waited a second before he uttered out, “And as a word of advice from your future self, the sooner you part ways with her, the better for you.”  
As soon as he’d spoken, he made his way towards the door.  
"Whoa. You’re just gonna leave me here?” Dean questioned the man.  
“Yes.” Future Dean answered with a sharp tone, as if he was just expecting for him to listen to his command without backlash. “I got a camp full of twitchy trauma survivors out there with an apocalypse hanging over their head. The last thing they need is to see is a double showing of ‘The Parent Trap’. So, yeah, you stay locked up.”  
“Okay. All right. Fine. But you don’t have to cuff me, man.” Dean said, agreeing to a certain part of the plan only to hope and squeeze out another part after he was getting a muscle cramp. His future self didn’t listen, he just zippered up the duffel bag and flung the strap over his shoulder, he grabbed his gun and headed for the door. “Oh, come on. You don’t trust yourself?”  
“No. Absolutely not.” His future said.   
With that, Dean opened up and slammed the door, heading out to whatever task that was more important. He settled yourself into a comfortable position and glanced over at the door. “Future me is a dick.”


	12. The End part 2

It might have taken all night, but Dean found a way to get himself out. Most floorboards were held down with very small nails, a perfect substitute he could use after his lock pick was taken away.   
He quietly opened up the door to the cabin and stepped out to the porch, took a moment to explore the camp. Everything was what you might have expected for an end of the world compound, there was all sorts of technological looking things spread around the place, not to mention cars that laid abandoned, stripped away from their parts that were still good. He thought it was the perfect time to try and explore more of the place, but he flinched when he heard a voice approach him from behind, and from the sounds of it, he recognized it as a familiar one.  
“Hey, Dean.” He quickly turned around on his heels when he heard the voice. He looked straight ahead to see that it was Chuck Shurley. He was approaching Dean with a clipboard in his hand and a pen in the other. “You got a second?”  
“No. Yes. Uh,” Dean was caught off guard, surprised himself to see the man he hadn’t been in contact with over the past few months “I—I guess. Hi, Chuck.”  
“Hi.” Chuck greeted the man with a brief response before his attention back to his clipboard, needing to discuss the monthly inventory he spent all morning counting. “So, uh, listen, we’re pretty good on canned goods for now, But we’re down to next to nothing on perishables and hygiene supplies. People are not gonna be happy about this. What do you think we should do?”  
“I don’t know.” Dean answered with an honest response. Chuck looked at the man as if he’d gone crazy, so Dean decided to change his answer to something his future self might suggest. “Maybe, uh, share? You know, like at a kibbutz.”  
“Wait a minute. Aren’t you supposed to be out on a mission right now?” Chuck found himself overstepping the boundaries by asking questions Future Dean wouldn’t be too pleased with. Dean raised his eyebrows, pretending to be casual about the matter, but it didn’t help when the man slowly looked away from him, and pointed the pen he was holding directly at you. Dean, the future version of himself, had set up a pretty strict set of guidelines of not letting any more survivors into the campsite, not since the last incident.   
“Absolutely. And I will be.” Dean said, making up an excuse for the man’s answer.   
Chuck continued to look at Dean with a funny expression, but his attention drifted to something else. A woman he’d never seen before suddenly came into the conversation swinging, literally. She started punches directly aimed at Dean, giving no excuse of why. He heard the man speak her name in a calm tone, his eyes wandered to Risa, who wasn’t very happy.  
“You spent the night in Jane’s cabin last night, didn’t you?” Risa questioned the man, thinking it was of her time. Dean seemed baffled, Chuck ratted him out by nodding his head. She scoffed and shook her head, disbelief written in her expression as she looked over at you. “Oh, I see how it is. You find a survivor that’s young and pretty, so you decide to bend the rules for a new face. And here I thought we had a 'connection.’”  
“Well, I’m sure that we do.” Dean said, cracking a smile at the woman.  
“Yeah?” Risa asked. “Screw you, jackass.”  
He watched as Risa stormed off, obviously not pleased. Dean was trying to process what just happened. “Oh, geez, I’m getting busted for stuff I haven’t even done yet.” He muttered underneath his breath. Chuck’s remark quickly made the man focus back his attention after seeing Risa disappear from sight. “Uh, never mind. Hey, Chuck, is…Cas still here?”  
“Yeah.” Chuck answered, quietly chuckling to himself as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t think Cas is going anywhere.”  
Hearing that Cas was still around was the best thing he’d had heard since he’d gotten here. Chuck told him where he could find the angel after heading back to the problem that needed to be solved about rations. Dean made it up the cabin steps and began to approach the doorway, he noticed right away the door was replaced with a string of beads. Dean shrugged his shoulders deciding on to approach into the cabin, he moved along the strings, peeking his head inside when he heard Cas’s voice.  
“So, in this way, we’re each a fragment of total perception—just, uh, one compartment in that dragonfly eye of group mind. Now, the key to this total, shared perception—it’s um, it’s surprisingly physical.” This didn’t sound like the Cas he had remembered. He was sitting on the ground, a circle of four women around him, passionately listening to every single word of philosophy as if it were the best thing they had ever heard. The angel stopped speaking when he noticed Dean lingering in the doorway. “Oh. Excuse me, ladies. I think I need to confer with our fearless leader for a minute. Why not go get washed up for the orgy?”  
What came out of the angel’s mouth made him do a double take, needing to take a further inspection of him. Dean got out of the way when the women made their exit so they could prepare for whatever the hell was going to happen. Not to mention as the woman passed by, he worshiped them and complimented them on their beauty, obviously showing how easily he adjusted to the opposite gender and coming to love what they could offer.  
Cas pushed himself to his feet, deciding to take the time on stretching out his limbs, cracking a few bones in the process. Dean took a few steps into the room, needing to find out what happened to the angel. “What are you, a hippie?”  
“I thought you’d gotten over trying to label me.” Cas said, taking his time cracking his neck. He let out a sigh and turned around in his spot, finally facing him, only he was taken back at who he was seeing. “Whoa. Strange. You…are not you—not ‘now’ you, anyway.” He noticed right away from Dean, “What year are you both from?”  
"2009.” He answered.  
“Who did this to you? Is it Zachariah?” Cas asked, he nodded your head. The angel processed the information, he let out a sigh and lifted a finger to his chin. “Interesting.”  
“Oh, yeah, it’s friggin’ fascinating.” Dean remarked with sarcasm. “Now why don’t you strap on your angel wings and fly me back to our page on the calendar?”  
Cas responded to the man’s command by laughing, but it wasn’t because he thought it was funny. Oh, no. It was because he reminded him of what he couldn’t do anymore. “I wish I could just, uh, strap on my wings, but I’m sorry—no dice.”  
He stepped forward to examine him, and from a simple sniff, he threw an accusation at him. “Are you stoned?”  
“Generally,” Cas admitted with a shrug. “Yeah.”  
“What happened to you?” Dean couldn’t help himself but ask.  
“Life.” The angel said. “That’s what happened.“  
He was tempted to figure out what he meant by that answer, but his attention was being pulled away when he heard something coming from outside, it sounded like a car engine. He headed back outside, pushing away the strings as he stepped onto the porch. He noticed about two cars, a truck and a jeep, pulling back into the compound. Dean noticed it himself, knowing that’s where the future version of Dean was.  
He watched as he got out, his men followed suit, grabbing the supplies they snatched, all while Dean toasted them for a job well done by handing out a few cans of lukewarm beer. All seemed to have been going well, that was, until he noticed Dean do something he would never do. He pulled out his gun from the holster and pointed it directly at one of his men, who didn’t suspect a thing.  
"Hey. Hey!” he did what you thought was right, suddenly wondering if this version of Dean had suddenly turned himself into a psycho. Dean began sprinting forward, trying his hardest to stop the situation before an innocent man’s life was cut short. “Watch out!”  
But the warning went unnoticed. He stopped in his tracks when he heard the gunshot come from Dean’s gun and the man landed face first into the dirt. His men were taken back themselves, but it wasn’t seeing one of their own be murdered, he noticed right away they were staring at him—the much younger version of Dean standing with Cas, surprised at what unfolded. Dean, of this present, looked over his shoulder to see what was causing such a distress. He lowered his gun and looked over his shoulder, quickly spotting him right away, his doppleganger hanging around Cas the hippie. Things had gone from bad to worse case scenario.  
“Damn it.” Dean hissed underneath his breath. He let out a frustrated sigh, knowing he was going to have to explain this messy situation to his men. “I’m not gonna lie to you. Me and him—it’s a pretty messed up situation we got going on. I suggest you leave it at that. When you need to know something, you will know it. Until then, we all have work to do. And Cas,” Dean pointed a finger the angel when he noticed his younger self was hovering next to him. “Keep an eye out for him. I’ll be back.”  
Nobody seemed to try and ask a question,he watched as the men nodded their heads, listening to the command. Your gaze was ripped away when you felt someone tightly wrap their hand around your arm, yanking you forward.   
“If you want to survive, I suggest you start listening.” Dean warned past Dean, deciding it’d be best to give him a bit of a personal taste for what kind of man he became. They walked together in sync back to the cabin he had woken up in, giving them privacy. “What the hell was that?”  
“What the hell was that?” he questioned him back. “You just shot a guy in cold blood!”  
“We were in an open quarantine zone—got ambushed by some crotes on the way out.” Future Dean explained to him. “Crotes—Croatians. One of them infected Yager.”  
“How do you know?”  
“Cause after a few years of this, I know.” Dean said. “I started seeing symptoms about a half an hour ago. Wasn’t gonna be long before he flipped. I didn’t see the point of troubling a good man with bad news.”  
“'Troubling a good man’? Do you hear yourself?” Dean found yourself arguing with him, suddenly overwhelmed at how different he had become over the years. “You just shot him in front of your own people. Don’t you think that freaked them out a little bit?”  
“It’s 2014. Plugging some crote—it’s called commonplace. Trading words with someone who’s been dead for four years and having them seeing my friggin’ clone running around here—that might have freaked them out a little.” Dean said, his voice was beginning to grow ever so slightly louder and rougher. “Listen here, you can drop this little act and listen for once. This isn’t your time. It’s mine. You don’t make the decisions. I do. So, when I say stay in, you stay in.”  
“So when you tell me to jump, should I ask how high?” he couldn’t help himself when he began mocking him, not particularly enjoying this little rise of power he was using on him. What he heard next made him look at him with a bit of surprise—he was ever so quietly chuckling to himself. "What’s so funny?”  
“Nothing.” Dean said. He grabbed a glass bottle of whiskey from the countertop and two clean glasses, sliding them over, he began pouring a shot glass amount in them. Dean decided it wouldn’t hurt to take a drink.  
"What was the mission, anyway?” Dean asked him, deciding to bring this conversation on something more important. Dean was about to finish his drink, but stopped himself when he heard his question. He seemed hesitant to show him, but after a second, he placed down his glass, and reached out for the duffel bag. He unzipped it and opened up the sides, all before pulling out something he thought he’d never see again. “The colt? Where was it?”  
“Everywhere. They’ve been moving it around. Took me five years, but, I finally got it. And tonight,” Dean examined the colt with a close eye, his lips stretching into a grin as he inspected the craftsmanship. He gently placed it back down on the table, switching it out for his glass of whiskey. “Tonight, I’m gonna kill the Devil.”  
Dean took the final sip of his drink like a champ, he licked his lips and let out a sigh, deciding it wouldn’t hurt to have another one for his accomplishment. “Wow. You spent five years hunting down the colt.” Dean spoke up. “What the hell happened to you, man? Were you that selfish that you would rather had your brother die than go after him? Would you rather track down the colt and see your only family perish?”  
“I tried. God knows I tried. But he wouldn’t listen to me. He put himself out there—he made that decision, he wrote his own fate.” Dean argued. “And for the past five years, it’s killed me knowing what I’ve done. I’ve have gone through every single way I could have stopped from losing Sammy. But I can’t go back. This was the only thing that’s kept me sane all these years.”


	13. The End part 3

“So, that’s it? That’s the colt?”  
Dean watched as his older self placed both palms against the wooden table and leaned over the gun, as if he were protecting it. Cas strolled around the room, grabbing the bottle of whiskey he had shared with the other Dean and poured himself a cup. He headed over to the table, passing by Risa, who quietly lurked forward, she was all too quiet tonight for the meeting Dean called. Cas dropped himself into a free chair and kicked up his feet, he poured himself a drink, only practicing in the conversation with nods. But Dean had a feeling he didn’t know what was going on.  
Dean cranked his neck upwards to look at the woman so he could he answer her suspicious questions. “If anything can kill Lucifer, this is it.”  
“Great.” Risa replied, her tone was short. “Have we got anything that can find Lucifer?”  
“Are you okay?” Dean asked, not having a single clue what she was pissed about.  
“Oh, you were in, uh, who was it—Jane’s cabin last night? And, apparently, you and Risa have a ‘connection.’” Dean spoke up for her, even adding the air quotes around the final word as she had done this morning. The reason she was still pissed off at him was because she caught you making out, destroying yet another fragile hope for anything in this wasteland of a life. “I see monogamy still isn’t your strong point.“  
Dean couldn’t help himself but chuckle at the messy situation he could only see happen. Risa crossed her arms over her chest and stared at the Dean from her present, Cas just shook his head, laughing quietly into his drink. "You want to shut up?” Dean asked his past self with a stern voice. “We don’t have to find Lucifer. We know where he is. The demon that we caught last week—she was one of the…big guy’s entourage. Lucifer’s right hand woman. She knew.”  
“So, a demon tells you where Satan’s gonna be, and you just believe it?” Risa asked, continuing to show her doubt for this plan. She might have been part of this small circle of people Dean trusted in the future, but she sure showed a lot of suspicion, not seeming trust an answer from a demon she was never allowed to interrogate herself, or for that matter, even see besides the man himself.  
“Oh, trust me—she wasn’t lying.” Dean said. You noticed that he actually felt proud of himself for what he could admit to the group. “She was singing like a canary when I got done with her.”  
Risa couldn’t help herself but press for one more question, “And you know this how?”  
“Our fearless leader, I’m afraid,” Cas peered down into his metal cup that was once filled with at least at least a mouthful of whiskey, now it remained empty. He grabbed the bottle, pouring himself yet another sizeable drink. “Is all too well schooled in the art of getting the truth.”  
“Oh, so, you’re torturing again. No, that's—that’s good. Classy, even. I’m sure it brings backs a lot of good and warm memories.”  
“Lucifer is here.” Dean ignored the comment, he cleared his throat and placed out a map. Dean tapped his index finger against the mark. Everyone seemed to have ignored the conversation that happened not even a few seconds ago, but the younger Winchester seemed to find it hard to focus on the more important task at hand, for there was a little detail he couldn’t stop thinking about. “Now, I know the block and I know the building.”  
"Oh, good,” Cas kicked his feet back to the floor and leaned forward to examine the map. When he realized where the location was, he wasn’t exactly pleased. “It’s right in the middle of a hot zone.”  
“Crawling with crotes, yeah.” Dean finished the man’s thought, knowing well enough the danger he was putting himself into. “Are you saying my plan is reckless?”  
“Are you saying we, uh, walk straight up the driveway past all the demons and the crotes, and we shoo the the devil?” Cas implied, the Dean in charge answered with a yes. “Okay, if you don’t like, uh, 'reckless,’ I could use 'insouciant,’ maybe.”  
“Are you coming?” Dean asked, not wasting time beating around the bush.  
“Of course. But why is he?“ Cas asked. He nodded his head back to the young man standing at your side, the version of Dean that was the most vulnerable person of screwing up time if nobody was safe. "I mean, he’s you five years ago. If something happens to him, you’re gone, right?”  
“He’s coming.” Dean, the future version of himself, decided that before the other one could protest.  
“Okay.” Cas agreed, knowing from the tone of voice, it was better to sneak away before an argument could break out. He looked over at the younger Dean, he nodded his head for the door, deciding it would be best if everyone got ready for this big fight that would be happening in mere hours. “Well, uh, I’ll get the grunts moving.”  
“We’re loaded and on the road by midnight.” Dean instructed to his people. He watched as his people listened to the command without a single word of protest. While he was about to get himself ready for the big show off, he pointed a finger at his younger self before his thumb signaled for the door. “Why don’t you make yourself useful for once and help them load stuff up? We need all hands on deck.”  
“Why are you bringing us?” Dean asked, curious to find out the real answer he didn’t tell anyone.  
“Relax. you will be fine.” Dean said, he brushed off his concern. “I’m sure Zach is looking out for you.”  
“That’s not what I meant. Don’t lie to me. I want to know what’s going on.”  
Dean didn’t seem to throw a protest, he let the bag he was holding drop to the table with a quiet thud and began walking forward to him. “You’re coming because I want you to see something. I want you to see Sam.”  
Past Dean furrowed his brow when he heard his real answer, knowing it didn’t match what he had said about the man when he asked about him. “Sam? I thought he was dead.”  
“Sam didn’t die in Detroit. He said ‘yes.’” Dean said the three words, and from the expression starting to settle on your face, he didn’t need to say those words about him saying yes to the Devil. “You know what the funny thing was? Sam told me about him being Lucifer’s vessel. It was the last conversation I had with him. I pushed him away thinking it was for the best. But…look at what happened.”  
“Why would he do that?”  
“He made a deal with the Devil.” Dean admitted with a bitter tone. “It was you or him, Lucifer wanted his vessel. And he didn’t get that, you were the next best thing that he could play with to get his answer.” You didn’t get the chance to ask him what he hinted around, he continued on speaking. “But that’s gonna change after I get my hands on him. We gotta kill him. That’s why I want you to come.”  
"What?”   
“We don’t have a choice. It’s in him, and it’s not getting out. And we’ve got to kill him.” Dean told him without missing a beat, his tone was calm and effective. “And you need to see it—the whole damn thing, how bad it gets—so you can make me do it differently.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“Zach said he was gonna bring you back to '09, right?” Dean asked. “Well, when you get back home…you say 'yes.’ You hear me? Say 'yes’ to Michael.”  
“Are you crazy?” He responded the way he knew he was going to. “If you let him in, then Michael fights the Devil. The battle’s gonna destroy half the planet.”  
“Look around you. Half the planet’s better than no planet. Which is what we have now.” Dean argued. “If I could do it over again, I’d say 'yes’ in a heartbeat.”  
“Then why haven’t you?” Dean questioned him.  
“I’ve tried! I’ve shouted 'yes’ until I was blue in the face! The angels aren’t listening! They just…left—gave up! It’s too late for me,“ Dean admitted. "But for you—”  
"Oh, no.” he muttered, a bitter chuckle came out from his mouth. “There’s got to be another way.“  
"Yeah, that’s what I thought. I was cocky. Never actually thought I’d lose. But I was wrong.”   
\+ + +  
All of them were ready to hit the road just a few minutes after midnight. Dean #1 was riding with Risa in her truck, as the other was finishing up loading his jeep as Cas declared past Dean his partner for the six hour drive.   
"So, you are really from '09?” Chuck asked as Dean walked in the darkness to Cas’ car. “Some free advice? You ever get back there, you hoard toilet paper. You understand me? Hoard it. Hoard it like it’s made of gold. 'Cause it is.”  
“Thanks, Chuck.”   
“Oh, you’ll thank me all right.” Chuck said. “Mark my words.”  
“I’ll see you around.” Dean said to him, stopping at the passenger side door of the truck.  
\+ + +  
Dawn was beginning to settle into the horizon when he traveled down into the ruins of another town, destroyed with no trace of another human in sight from the other handfuls you arrived with. Dean quietly walked down the muddy roads as his older doppelganger traveled first into the pack. wasn’t the idea of harming Sam, because when this was done, the reset button would be pressed and all of you were back at home, as if nothing happened. All of them traveled on foot for about an hour before Dean pointed out some tall building, that was the place where the Devil would be hiding. They crouched behind an abandoned car and peered over the hood, after Dean examined what he could with a pair of binoculars.  
"There. Second floor window. We go in there. They’ll never see us coming.” Dean instructed to his people. He handed the binoculars to Cas, but Risa didn’t seem so confident in the plan, and he could tell from the look on her face. “Trust me. Now, weapons check. We’re on the move in five.”  
“Hey, uh…Dean.” Dean quietly got his attention by waving his arm. he looked over at the man crouched next to you. “Can I talk to you for a second?” It wasn’t exactly what he wanted, and the other Dean didn’t seem satisfied. But he quickly made his way to a safe distance away from the crowd, and away from any possible detection of danger. “You’re lying to these people.  
Dean gave him a look, “Is that so?”  
“Yeah. I know your lying expressions. I’ve seen then too many times to count.“ he said. "You’ve been dropping hints these past few days. And you lied about Sam. There’s something you’re not telling me.”  
"I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Dean denied what he was accusing him of.  
“Oh, really? Well, I don’t seem to the only member of your posse with some questions, so, uh, maybe I’ll just take my doubt over to them. Or…I could tell them about what you told me, about how Sam really isn’t dead.”   
“Take a look around you. This place should be white-hot with crotes. Where are they?” Dean asked him. He fell silent, they knew they were coming. “It’s a trap.”  
“Well, then we can’t go through the front.” Past dean said.  
“Oh, we’re not. They are. They’re the decoys.” Dean said, he nodded his head to the group of that was patiently waiting for his cue. “You and me—we’re going through the back.”  
“You mean you’re gonna feed your friends into a meat grinder? Cas, too? You want to use their deaths as diversion?” Dean confronted himself, seeming to have had enough of hearing things that would never come from him. “Oh, man, something’s broken in you. You’re making decisions that I would never make. I wouldn’t sacrifice my friends.”  
“You’re right. Something did break in. Guess that’s what happens when your brother turns into the Devil. I didn’t have any other options. I’m supposed to kill the Devil, save the world. And that’s exactly what I’m gonna do.” Dean, the older version, had suddenly changed out of the man he presented himself to still be.   
“You…You—”  
“You trying to say I’m a monster? Yeah, I am. All of us are. You, me, Sam. That’s one of the consequences when I said no to Michael. I’m doing things the old me would never do.” Dean remarked with a bitter smirk on his lips. He looked over at his younger self, he moved his finger to lightly press on the trigger. “What do you want, Dean? If you let those people die—you’re a villain. But, if you let me just do this, The monster’s ganked and you’ll never had to say yes to Michael.”  
"You’re one screwed up son of a bitch, that’s what you are.” Dean hissed at himself, finding his actions coming from the man disturbing. “You’re not gonna save the world like this. I’m not gonna let you.”  
“Oh, really?” He replied, almost slightly amused at his younger self. “You wish.”  
\+ + +  
The last thing Dean could remember was a painful force to his jaw before everything went black. He slowly found himself coming back into consciousness and to what was going on around him. It took him a second to realize he was lying face down on the ground, his face buried in small pile of dead leaves that smelled faintly of wet grass. Dean slowly began to move himself to a standing position, ignoring the familiar ache in his jaw as he pushed himself to his feet. He began wiping the dirt from his hands and looked around, wondering for a second of where everyone one. But it took the split second of listening to gunfire in the distance for everything to come rushing back to him.  
What he had arrived to was a garden, from the way it was upkept, everything around it was dead from the plants shriveled up leaves and patchy grass. Dean slowed himself to a brisk walk, his eyes darting everywhere to find out where he could have ended up, only to see that you were right in front of him. He just didn’t know it yet. The body standing in front of him was exactly like the one you had; it was the same height, same weight. But his attention found itself slowly dwindling away, for he was caught off guard to see the fate of himself, lying on the ground. Dean stared at himself straight in the eye, and without even seeing you moving a finger, he heard future Dean’s neck crack and the life vanish from his eyes.  
It was silent for a moment. Dean heard his breathing turn into shallow breaths as the person ever so slowly, looked over their shoulder to see who it was. And Dean realized the person was you. But…it wasn’t you.  
You stared at him with a rather surprised look, yet you seemed casual. You were wearing a white chiton like dress. But the thing that most caught his attention was your eyes. He’d seen you before, without your contacts, your bright purple eyes, but this time they glowed in a sinister way. He reminded himself of how his future self didn’t tell you if you were dead or not, but here you were, looking exactly the way you did in his time. But it was the eyes that gave it away.  
And all he could think about was, you looked exactly the way Anna drew you in her book.   
“Oh.” You spoke up, with the littlest emotion. “Hello, Dean.”


	14. The End part 4

The woman standing across the grass, looked like someone who had been dragged to Hell and back. But she stared at him with no emotion, almost like there weren’t any.  
You stepped away from the body as you took a few steps forward, but still keeping your distance from him. Time felt like it moved for centuries with you staring at him, Your eyes wandered away from Dean, he didn’t seem to understand what was happening, he flinched at the thought of thunder crashing from the sky as he could feel droplets of rain hitting his skin as a storm began brewing. “You’ve come a long way to see this, haven’t you?”  
Dean suddenly found himself turning around when he heard someone speaking from behind. The voice was familiar, but when he made eye contact with the person, it was like being faced with the worst kind of monster he would ever deal with. He swallowed down his fears when he looked Lucifer himself straight in the eye, somehow he could easily hide the pain of seeing his little brother being worn by the Devil himself like a cheap suit.  
“Well, go ahead.” Dean spoke up, and with an eerily calm voice, he gave permission to do what most monsters wanted. “Kill me.”  
Lucifer’s reaction wasn’t what the Winchester expected, he almost seemed a bit amused, like it was some joke Dean said to try and impress him. He leaned over slightly to stare at the dead body of his doppleganger lying on the grass. “Don’t you think that would be a little…redundant?” He asked, not seeming to understand what he would gain if he allowed it to happen. Dean stared at him, his expression never changed, causing the Devil to sigh in grief for what he was putting the man through. “I’m sorry. It must be painful, speaking to me in this—shape. But it had to be your brother. And as for Y/N, well, it was just a matter of time until she became who she was truly meant to be.” Lucifer tried to gain the man’s trust by reaching out an arm to place his hand on Dean’s shoulder, but the hunter flinched away. “You don’t have to be afraid of us, Dean. What do you think I’m going to do?”  
Dean fell silent, not answering the question just yet, he watched with close examination as Lucifer casually walked across the grass and finding the only living thing still in the garden. It was a red rose in full bloom, his fingers lightly wrapped around the stem, ignoring how the thorns pricked his skin, and with a simple tug, he ripped the living flower from its natural habitat to give as a gift.   
“You changed Y/N into a shell, that’s a start.“ Dean stated. Your eyes flickered over to him to see the words that came out his mouth were painful to say.   
"You say that like it’s a bad thing, Dean.” Lucifer said. “You fail to understand that this is who she is.”  
“You turned her into something… I don’t even know what. I look at her and I don’t even recognize her anymore.” Dean argued with him. He knew all those years of you having nightmares and your mind constantly full of fear, fighting the dangerous consequences that brought you into this world. Dean had to remind himself that this future could be changed. “And don’t forget, you want to deep-fry the planet.”  
“Like I said, this is who she always was, who she’s always been. You have merely scratched the surface of who she is.” He explained, “Let me show you a tiny part of what she can do.” He said, turning slightly towards you before you raised your hand ever so slightly and before Dean could do anything, the storm that was brewing over them picked pace in a second, transforming into strong winds that held the power of uprooting trees and then next second, silence as you let your hand fall back.  
The little demonstration left Dean speechless but Lucifer continued on, answering his other question.  
“And why? Why would I want to destroy this stunning thing? Beautiful in a trillion different ways. The last perfect handiwork of God.” Lucifer spoke with passion as he examined what was left of the garden, even with the dead leaves and overgrown grass, he could find the best things about it. But Dean didn’t fall for the little show he was putting on, Lucifer knew the hunter could only see the dark side of the Devil. "You ever hear the story of how I fell from grace?”  
“Oh, good God. You’re not gonna tell me a bedtime story, are you?” Dean asked, his tone was full of sarcasm. “My stomach’s almost out of bile.”  
“You know why God cast me down? Because I loved him. More than anything. And then God created…you. The little…hairless apes.” Lucifer’s lips twitched as he let out a soft chuckle, Dean heard a roll of thunder as the entire sky lit up from a strike of lighting. “And then he asked for all of us to bow down before you—to love you more than Him. And I said, ‘Father…I can’t.’ I said, 'These human beings are flawed, murderous.’ And for that, God had Michael cast me into Hell. I spent millennials locked in a cage because I refused. Now, does the punishment fit the crime? Especially when I was right?”  
Lucifer’s lips stretched into what appeared to be a grim smile, “But I suppose there’s a silver lining to all of this. You see, God would only allow me to be free if I could understand why he made humans. So I did, I ‘bonded’ with his favourite of all. (y/n). I made her my anchor, our souls are bonded. So much so that my life depends on her… you kill her, you kill me.”  
Dean slowly felt his eyes wander over to you, who stared at him with a calm expression.  
Lucifer was the type of angel who tried to explain his reasoning with such detail, he made it seem like he had a right to be doing this, that everyone deserve to be punished because God didn’t love him anymore. “He created all of you, but he ignores your desperate pleas for happiness. It turned you into murderous, vile creatures. Look at what six billion of you have done to this thing. And how many of you blame me for it?”  
"You’re not fooling me. You know that? With this sympathy-for-the-devil crap. I know what you are.” Dean said. Lucifer raised his brow in curiosity, he asked the man what he was. “You’re the same thing, only bigger. The same brand of cockroach I’ve been squashing my whole life—an ugly, evil, belly-to-the ground, supernatural piece of crap. You hurt innocent and vulnerable people to get what you wanted. The only difference between them and you is the size of your ego.”  
“I like you, Dean. I get what the other angels see in you.” Lucifer stood up as he dropped his hand back to his side, and with a final nod, he turned around to start walking away. "You better kill me now.” Dean’s voice broke the silence, making you and Lucifer look over at him. “You better kill me now. Or I swear, I will find a way to kill you. And I won’t stop.”  
“I know you won’t.” It wasn’t Lucifer who spoke up, it was you. Dean turned his head to see that you were staring at him straight in the eye, but this time, he could feel something in your words. Something defying your words. “I know you won’t say 'yes’ to Michael, either. And I know you won’t kill Sam. Whatever you do…we will always end up here.” You told him. “Whatever choices you make, whatever details you alter, we will always end up…here.”   
"So, I win.” Lucifer said. Dean couldn’t help himself when he tried denying the truth as a single tear rolled down his cheek, mumbling out that the Devil was wrong. Lucifer only smirked at him, knowing well enough the hunter was smarter than how he looked. Dean saw enough to understand the consequences if he didn’t say yes. And while it would take longer, Lucifer still remained the winner.. “See you in five years, Dean.”  
\+ + +  
“Oh, well, if it isn’t the ghost of Christmas 'screw you.’” Dean remarked underneath his breath.  
“Enough. Dean, enough. You saw it, right? You saw what happens.” Zachariah didn’t seem to find any of his sarcasm funny today. He wasn’t here to banter, he had an offer you couldn’t refuse. “You and I both want the Devil to be proven wrong. You know you don’t want to fall for that destiny, do you? Say 'yes,’ we can strike and you’ll never have to worry about Lucifer getting to Sam. Before billions die.”  
"What if I do?” Dean asked the hypothetical question. “What do I gain from it?”  
“Paradise. When we win, You’ll spend the rest of your days in blissfulness.” Zachariah offered something that sounded too good to be true. “What do you say, Dean? You want to join us for the greater good?”  
He looked over at the angel, giving him his final answer. “Nah.” He said with a shrug. “I’m good.”  
”'Nah’? You think this is all just a game, don’t you, Dean?“ Zachariah questioned him. "You telling me you haven’t learned your lesson?”  
“Oh, I’ve learned my lesson, all right. I learned not to take orders from angels, or anyone, for that matter. You need to learn something, buddy. I am not a piece in this game you’re trying to play with the Devil. I am a human being.” Dean hissed at him, using all his frustration over the past few days as ammunition to stand up to Zachariah. “Try all you want. Put me through your little mind games and try to make me your puppet. But I will say yes. I’d rather spend a hundred years in Hell again than do anything for you.”  
“Well, I’ll just have to refresh your memory!” Zachariah wasn’t having his attitude. He was at his wit’s end with Dean, and from the tone of his voice, he was getting arrogant into thinking he had him backed into a corner. “Because I got you now, Dean, and I’m never letting you—”  
Before Dean could hear Zachariah finish his threat, he felt everything turn black, and the same sensation he had felt before coming back into his present washed over him. When he opened his eyes, he slowly recognized how it was much colder, and there wasn’t as much light as before. He slowly propped an eye open to see that he was standing outside and at the edge of an empty highway. and not in the motel room. He looked over to see Cas right next to him, but his focus quickly went over to you standing on his right.  
Your lips stretched into a smile at seeing Dean okay, you chuckled lightly to yourself with relief.   
"That’s pretty nice timing, (y/n).”  
“You weren’t answering your door and I got worried.” You replied, with a smile and a shrug, “Cas helped.”  
Dean couldn’t help himself but indulge into the feeling of happiness at the moment. He took a step forward and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug. At first you were caught off guard, unsure of what you were doing, but soon you too embraced the hug and enjoyed the rare moment of peace.  
“Don’t ever change.” Dean told the both of you with a genuine warmth in his tone. “Especially you.” He added, turning to you.  
“How did Zachariah find the both of you?” Cas questioned.  
“Long story. Let’s just stay away from Jehovah’s witnesses from now on, okay?” Dean gave the both of you a piece of advice. You looked down to see that he’d fetched his phone from his pocket, and with quick hands, he was typing in a number. You asked him what he was doing, wondering what the rush was all about. “I’m doing something I should have done in the first place.”  
And that was calling Sam.  
\+ + +  
It might have taken all night, but you and Dean made it before him. You leaned against the Impala and watched in the near distance as the car Sam had stolen slowly come into view, driving forward to the both of you. After spending too long apart, the brothers were finally back together.   
Dean was the first one to make a move, he walked forward to his little brother, trying to act as if the both of them were trying to act as if nothing was wrong. The older Winchester pulled out the demon knife from his jacket by the handle, but before he made his decision, he contemplated for a moment or so, until he handed the knife over to his brother. “If you’re serious and you want back in, you should hang on to this. I’m sure you’re rusty.” Dean used the knife as a peace offering, Sam hesitantly grabbed it and felt what it was like to have this back in his possession after so long. “Look, man, I’m sorry. I don’t know. I’m…whatever I need to be. But I was wrong.”  
“What made you change your mind?” Sam asked his older brother.  
“Long story.” Dean said. He let out a soft chuckle as he looked over at you, while you stood near the Impala, giving them space. “The point is, maybe we are each other’s achilles’ heel. Maybe they’ll find a way to use us against each other. I don’t know. I just know that we’re all we’ve got. More than that. We keep the human part of us intact.”  
Sam listened to everything his brother had said, it made the weight he’d been carrying on his shoulders feel a little less heavy. "Thank you.” He mumbled to his brother for the opportunity he thought would never come again. “Really. Thank you. I won’t let you two down.”  
“Oh, I know. I mean, you are the second-best hunter on the planet.” Dean complimented the man, making the three of you smile at the break of tension. “Y/N almost beat you. She’s been kicking a lot of ass while you were gone. But I still say she’s the…third best hunter we know?”  
Sam found himself chuckling at his brother, he didn’t realize he missed it until right now as they walked back towards you and you greeted Sam back with a warm hug. But the mood slowly shifted back when a question came into his mind, “What do we do now?”  
“We make our own future.” Dean answered for him.  
Sam nodded his head in agreement, “Guess we have no choice.”  
Dean had told you what had happened over on your ride here, but what you didn’t know was that he had skipped a big part of it in telling you. According to the story he told you, you didn’t make it to five years into the future and died hunting.   
At the back of your mind, there was a little voice that had it’s own suspicions to his story but with the time you spent with the boys, you’d learned to trust them.  
The boys could spend weeks or months apart, but somehow, it was natural to see the both of them fall back into old patterns so quickly. You stared at them from the backseat to see they were fighting over who was going to pay for the first round for the celebration of them being back together, and with a fight, you heard the infamous “Bitch, jerk” routine after they realized what they had done. You leaned against the seat and let out a sigh. For all you care, the Devil could go screw himself.


	15. God's Secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is like, an additional chapter that I felt was needed to explain the context of the reader's storyline.

It had been weeks after the boys reunited and you had had no leads on how to kill the devil. Dean had told Sam about the incident with Zachariah and exactly what he’d told you. He’s been keeping the whole truth about you a secret from now both you and Sam.   
While working some other cases, you came across a kid who Castiel believed to be the antichrist. Dealing with him wasn’t easy but he was a great kid and made it easy on you and disappeared.   
Getting done with the case, you and the boys went back at the motel room you’d been renting.  
“Well, I will be taking my leave then.” Castiel said, turning towards the door before you called out his name, making him stop in his tracks.  
“Cas, wait.” You said, as the Winchesters took seats at the nearby table, and looked up at you, “I need to ask you something.”  
You’d wanted to talk to Castiel ever since the encounter with Raphael.  
“What is it, (y/n)?”  
With a sigh, you popped up the question, “What do you know about The Diomhair that Raphael mentioned… A- And don’t say you don’t know anything cause I know you do.”  
The question made the expressions on Cas’ face change. You saw that the brothers were equally interested as you to get the answer from the angel.  
“It’s not a matter of knowing, (y/n), because even what I do know; I’m not sure if it’s true.”  
“What do you mean?” You heard Dean ask Cas.  
“There are stories that the angels tell each other, but for most of us, including me, that’s all they are, a story. The Diomhair, in Gaelic means Secret. Vetiti means forbidden in Latin. They’re all names of the same thing, and it has many more in various cultures.   
They say that somewhere out there, there’s a thing that can’t be destroyed. Not even by God himself, and that its been hidden away forever by our father. The word was that the very first of our kind, like the archangels, have seen it and also, that included the most loyal and trusted of all, Lucifer. Other versions of the story say that the reason it was hidden away from everything was because Lucifer’s soul was bonded to it.   
Of course, no angel I know had ever seen it, therefore it forever remained a story to us until recently when Raphael claimed that (y/n) is The Diomhair.”  
To say that you were having trouble taking the information in would be a huge understatement.   
“But how can it be true…” Sam broke the short silence, “Cause as far as we know, (y/n) can die as easily as me or Dean.”  
“Like I said,” Cas replied with a sigh, “I don’t know how much of it is true and how much isn’t.”   
Cas’ words kept repeating themselves over and over in your head, trying to make some sense, nut however you looked at it, there was one thought that kept popping up. And you decided it wouldn’t hurt to ask.  
“If what everyone is saying is true, that would mean I’m bonded to Lucifer, right?”  
“It would appear so, yes.” He answered.  
“So, if something were to happen to me—” before you could finish your sentence, Sam interrupted.  
“Don’t. Finish that sentence.” He said, glaring at you.  
“Why not?” you hissed back at him. “Isn’t that what we’ve been busting our asses looking for? A way to kill the devil? And now that we do—”  
“We don’t know that!”   
“We don’t know anything for sure, Sam!” you snapped. “But there’s a chance. A chance to take down Lucifer!”  
“And that’s how much you value your life? A chance?”   
“Sorry to disappoint you Sam but I know I’ve wagered it for far less!”  
A silence fell over as soon as the words left your mouth. There was a look of bafflement over Sam’s face whereas Dean was just sitting quietly like he’d been ever since the conversation started.   
It was Cas who finally spoke up. “As much as I would like to kill Lucifer, I believe Sam is right. Besides, even if it’s true, we shouldn’t forget that it’s Lucifer and he can easily bring you back before you even try.”  
“I need some air.” You muttered before you grabbed your jacket and instantly headed out the door.  
Sam stood up, intending to go after you but was stopped by Dean’s hand on his shoulder.   
“What- now you have something to say?” Sam hissed at his brother, yanking his hand away.  
“Look, I know what you’re feeling right now, Sam. I know. But trust me, I know for a fact that (y/n) can do a lot more than she knows or lets on.” Dean answered calmly.  
“Now what does that mean?”  
“Remember when Zach the douche angel zapped me to zombie land in the future? I saw her there, man, standing side by side with the devil.”  
“But you said she didn’t make it—”  
“I lied, I’m sorry. But I didn’t know what to tell you after what I saw. Back there, I saw what she could do. She made storms happen without raising as much as a finger. And I- I could feel it, Sam. I could feel this… power that came off from her and I swear I’ve never felt anything like it.”  
The new information that Dean just gave Sam and Cas made Sam deciding against going after you and thought that they’ll give you some space.  
+++  
The sun was setting and it had been hours since you left. Cas had returned to wherever he was supposed to go to find God. You had resorted to taking the edge off by drowning yourself in whiskey and cigarette smoke, sitting by the motel pool that was behind the main building, with an almost okay view of the sunset.   
Flicking the ash directly on the floor, rested your back against the wall as the fading sunlight reflected off of the stagnant water. You heard footsteps approaching and without turning your head towards the sound, took a swig from the already half empty bottle.  
“You know those things are bad for you.” Dean’s hoarse voice entered your ears as he noticed the burning cigarette in your hand.  
“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” You muttered before taking another long drawl of the said cigarette. Amused by your response, a slight snicker left him before he made space next to you to sit.  
“May I?” he asked, gesturing to the bottle of whiskey.  
“It’s a free country.” You replied before pushing the bottle to his side.  
Dean took a sip of the drink, the liquid burning its way down his throat. A few moments of silence passed before he spoke up. “So,” he started, staring at the same nothing you had been, “Are you gonna try to kill yourself now?”  
You let out a wry laugh. “Don’t you think if I was gonna do that, I would’ve already? Besides, It’s not like it would do me much good seeing as, like Cas said, he can just as easily bring me back.”   
Dean silently nodded at your words before speaking up again. “I know what you’re feeling, (y/n)…”  
“Oh, do you now?”   
“(Y/n), I know you feel helpless… nothing makes sense. You don’t know what to do but it’s okay. We’ve all been there and we’ll figure it out… together.”  
“Please stop.” Your reply made his face change expressions. He looked confused at your response. “There is no ‘we’, Dean, so stop bullshitting me. You think I don’t notice?” You were now staring straight into his eyes and he couldn’t help but let you speak your part. “You’ve never trusted me, Dean. Ever since I started hunting with you, you’ve always just waited for the other shoe to drop. And look, given your history with trusting people and my entire existence, I understand. Hell, I wouldn’t trust me either. Cause look at me, I’m a freak. A freak with no parents, no family, no idea where I came from, whose existence was thrusted upon the universe… A-and for what? To be the devil’s anchor. To- to make sure that freaking Lucifer can walk the earth?!” at this point, tears had started forming in your eyes so you looked away and blinked them away. The cigarette in your hand was long out now so you absent mindedly rubbed it against the ground with your eyes stuck to it. Your voice had calmed down now. “You know, Dean. All this time, while I hunted or even before that… all I ever wanted to do was find a place I belong. I just wanted to find my parents or at least get to know about them… the kind of people they were… the kind of person I was supposed to be… but- now all of that is just… gone. And I don’t know what to do with it.”  
A long silence fell between you and him. The sun was completely gone now, only the light of a singular bulb in the corner illuminating your features.   
“I’m sorry.” He broke the silence surrounding the two of you. “I shouldn’t have lied to you. But it’s not like you think. I do trust you, more than you think. But I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t indeed waiting for the other shoe to drop. And it has nothing to do with you, (y/n). With everything that’s happened, all I’ve ever got is that I can trust you, but till when. There’s so much we still don’t know and… it scares the hell out of me. I know that you will do the right thing but… what happens when your right and my right isn’t the same anymore.   
I know that it’s difficult right now but none of us know shit about anything of what’s going to happen. I don’t know what to say to make you feel better, I don’t know. But the only thing I know for sure is that Lucifer is evil and there’s no way I’m letting him destroy everything I love and know, not without a fight. And that I can’t do it alone. The only question is… will you help me?”


	16. Changing Channels part 1

“Supernatural” is written before a live studio audience.  
Dean Winchester has faced many obstacles and challenges during his hunting lifestyle of almost three decades. He’d been to Hell and back, been faced with some nasty demons along with not so friendly angels—including one that wanted to wear him like a cheap suit to prom, the apocalypse prom, that is. He tossed the can of cheese whizz back into the fridge and slammed the door shut after he’d gotten a little hungry this afternoon after giving up on that research his brother asked him to do. He faced the table where he’d prepared a sandwich with the food he’d found in the fridge. Only when he examined the creation that sat in the middle of the table, Dean realize he might have gone a little overboard with the ingredients stacked almost two feet high between two pieces of bread. You could say he might have bitten off more than he could chew.  
Dean eyed the sandwich with a funny look, clearly, he was overwhelmed at what he’d done. He pursed out his lips and began trying to figure out how he could possibly take a first bite without getting all messy. He came out with one conclusion to solve this problem, “I’m gonna need a bigger mouth.” The audience let out a laugh, finding the oldest Winchester’s shenanigans always hilarious. Oh, when was that man ever going to learn? The front door to the motel opened just a few moments later by Sam, the always lovable rascal of a little brother. “Hey there, Sam. What’s happening?”  
“Oh, nothing. Um…” Sam shut the door behind him and stepped inside more into the room. He let out a sigh and placed his hands on his hips while shrugging his shoulders, answering his brother with a playful and lighthearted tone, knowing the little goof they’ve pulled a few months ago was still lingering over their heads. “Just the end of the world.” Dean nodded his head and found himself smiling, the audience let out a few chuckles before drifting off into silence. Sam looked over to the table when he took notice of the two foot tall sandwich sat right in the middle. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You’re gonna need a bigger mouth.” Dean threw out his hand when his brother said the exact same thing, the audience let out another roar of laughter at the brothers’ famous way of repeating each other’s lines. “Hey, uh, what about the research?”  
Research? Dean was caught off guard from the question he should have known would be coming from his smarty pants of a little brother. He nervously licked his lips and subconsciously found his gaze lingering to the closed bathroom door for a moment of time, knowing what laid behind it. Dean quickly tore his gaze away as he pressed his fingertips together, trying his hardest to act calm while he told a little white lie to his brother. “Oh, right.”   
“Yeah? Huh. You helped Y/N with the research?” Sam asked. The audience let out a laugh while Dean looked away, a guilty smile spreading across his lips. “Speaking of Y/N, where is she?”  
“Oh, Sam…” The door to the bathroom opened, and if timing was the oldest Winchester’s best friend, it wasn’t too happy with the man today. A roar of cheering erupted from the audience when you peeked your head out with a smile growing on your lips, greeting the scene for the first time. You opened the door wider to show that you weren’t dressed in the usual uniform of flannel and dark worn out denim jeans. Leaning against the doorframe, you gave the oldest Winchester a smirk as you crossed your arms over your chest, letting him see what you were wearing. A few ‘oohs’ and wolf whistled came from the audience when you were dressed in nothing more than a silky kimono robe that hit just above your knee, and with nothing more than pretty lingerie. Dean nervously swallowed at the sight of you, and from how his little brother was starting to shake his head. Uh, oh. “So which one of you is going to help me with the research?”  
The audience oohed again. Dean let out a quiet sigh as he slowly turned his head to look at his little brother, knowing this wasn’t going to end very well. Sam tilted his chin down as he crossed his arms over his chest, “Dean…”  
Dean looked straight ahead to say his famous catch phrase, “Son of a bitch!”  
“Town to town  
two-lane roads  
The family biz  
Two huntin’ bros and and a pretty cool gal  
Living the lie  
Just to get by-y-y-y…”  
The fictional hunting lifestyle on the show Supernatural isn’t always fun and games for you and the boys. You have to venture into haunted houses and abandoned warehouses to catch the bad guy. But there’s always some shenanigans going on between three unlikely allies. You, the always cautious one, made sure to keep an eye out for any possible monsters as you backed around slowly of the house that was harboring a vengeful spirit, who sure wasn’t choosing the dust and cobwebs as their next victim. As you slowly moved around her flashlight to examine the dusty furniture, you took another step backwards, unaware of the presence behind you.  
You jumped out of your skin and quickly turned around to face the spirit you were hunting. Only it was the younger Winchester. Both of you let out a roar of a laugh from the accidental spook you gave each other. Sam placed a hand on your shoulder as you waved the flashlight underneath your face to make a scary which, which prompted the younger Winchester to laugh harder.  
“As long as we’re moving forward  
There’s nothin’ we can’ do.”  
Of course, sometimes the scares were a bit intentional. Hunting can be boring, and the cases that you and the boys take are false alarms. Just like that show Scooby Do, they teach you monsters who they hunt were just people dressed up as scary creatures. You decided to have a bit of fun. While you knew the younger Winchester was sent to do the daunting task of searching upstairs for any sort of clues like you told him to do. He looked around the mostly bare room, not seeing much evidence of a curse object. He headed over for the closet doors and began to slowly open them up, not expecting what was about to happen.  
You stood on the other side, and when you first saw him, you put her arms out in front of him and shouted “Boo!” to make him jump in fright. Sam quickly shut the doors and pressed his backside against the wood, his heart racing in fear at what he’d witnessed, not knowing just yet the figure in white was just you with a bedsheet draped over your body.  
“Together, we’ll face the day  
You and I won’t run away.”  
[Starring Jared Padalecki as Sam Winchester.]  
Dean had one love in his life, and the mint condition 1967 Chevy Impala, also known as Baby. You and Sam stood outside on a bright sunny day, nursing a cup of coffee as you watched the oldest Winchester tinkered around with the Impala with the hood open. When the job was done, he was covered in grease. You tossed him a dirty rag to wipe his hands, but the man accidentally reached up and rubbed the sweat away from his forehead with his greasy hand. While the oldest Winchester finally started wiping his hands with the rag you tossed him, unaware of the accidental smudge across his forehead he’d made.  
Sam took notice when he started laughing and pointing a finger at the mishap. Dean furrowed his brow when you began laughing yourself, only when he realized what he’d done, the man let out a chuckle himself at the accidental goof he’d made.  
[Jensen Ackles as Dean Winchester.]  
But the boys don’t always use the Impala as a mode of transportation. Together they powered up a two-seat bike, where they peddled across the park on this sunny afternoon, knowing they had an important task to complete. However, they couldn’t help themselves when they got caught up in the moment. Sam let go of the handles and let his arms wave themselves in the air, as Dean kicked out his feet, both of them smiling like a bunch of idiots. You watched from the end of the sidewalk as they began peddling closer to you. You clapped and smiled at what they could do without getting hurt. When the boys arrived a few moments later, Dean jumped off the bike as Sam steadied it.  
You took out the flowers from the wicker basket as they got off the bike. Pressing the fresh flowers to your nose, you took in a big sniff, smiling to yourself at the sweet floral aroma.  
[Y/N Y/L/N starring as Y/N Y/L/N.]  
A fun day in the park wouldn’t be complete without you and the boys’ new best friend, the friendly angel Cas. While the boys raced each other on mini scooters that were hilariously too small to their generous frame, you jumped onto the angel’s back for a piggy back ride he wasn’t expecting. He secured your legs with his hands before he started jogging around the park, both of you laughing from carefree day he was happily apart of.  
[Misha Collins as Castiel.]  
You cheered and hollered, playing the cheerleader for both teams as the boys competed a friendly game of tossing around a football. Sam stood a good distance away as he got ready to toss the ball to his brother. Dean watched with a close eye as the man slowly stretched his arm back, all before launching the ball into a perfect spiral. You nervously stood off in the sidelines as you began to chew on your nails, wondering if Dean was going to make that big catch. You watched the ball go flying straight up into the blue sky, all before landing right in the older Winchester’s grip. You threw your hands up into the air and cheered at what you saw, Dean proudly did a touchdown, throwing the ball own at the grass.  
[Guest starring Richard Speight Jr. as The Trickster.]  
“Together we’ll face the day…  
When the demons come out to pla-a-y…”  
Of course, a long day of hunting wouldn’t be complete without a couple of beers and burgers. You sat in the middle of the seating arrangement as the boys sat on each of your side. You lifted up your glass beer bottle, and to give a final hooray for a job well done, all of you clinked glasses and smiled. Almost as if there was a camera on you, and this was more than just a simple day of your life. You looked straight ahead, giving a sly wink. Not yet, at least.  
\+ + +  
You were laying on the motel bed with your back pressed against the headboard for the past fifteen minutes to see if the boys were ready, with a book lying on your lap, trying to finish up a chapter you were on. Sam was in the bathroom, trying to fix his tie as Dean was by your feet at the edge of the bed. He was mindlessly watching some show on the small motel TV. You weren’t paying much attention what it was, too engrossed in your own fictional world. You made a rough guess that Dean was probably caught up in some hospital soap opera that played in the early afternoon. You decided to take a chance and see what it was all about, wondering what was making Dean so hypnotized from the look on his face.  
Setting the book face down on your lap to save your spot, you looked over at the television to take a moment to see what this was all about. You watched as the scene unfolded with a group of a hospital staff emerged out from the elevator and dispersed off in different directions before going off camera, leaving a doctor and another nurse. The two of them strolled into the elevator and took opposite sides of the small space, keeping a relatively calm stance, but when the doors closed, all caution was thrown to the wind. Your eyebrows shot up when the doctor pounced on the woman, pushing her up against the wall before pressing his lips against hers. Both of them weren’t holding back on the acting as you watched them heavily make out, the doctor took it up a notch as he kicked his foot up against the wall’s banister, hooking his shoe against the metal bar to keep her pinned in place. You found yourself titling your head to the side as you furrowed your brow, wondering why he was wearing cowboy boots.  
“What are you guys watching?”  
Sam’s voice coming from the bathroom door made you realize you were staring at the screen with the same expression as Dean. You quickly covered your tracks as you scratched behind your ear to pretend that you weren’t engaging with mind numbing drama. “What? I’m not watching it.” You muttered underneath your breath. “Dean was the one who’s watching it.”  
“It’s some hospital show.” Dean said. He shrugged his shoulders, seeming unsure of what he was watching himself. “‘Dr. Sexy, M.D.’ I think it’s based on a book.”  
Sam chuckled to himself as he fixed the cuffs of his dress shirt, making sure everything was neatly in place as you kicked your feet off the bed and pressed out any wrinkles in your skirt. You began slipping on your heels that laid abandoned on the carpet as Sam began walking across the motel to fetch his jacket from the chair. “When did you hit menopause?” He asked his brother, Dean replied with an irritated eye roll.  
“It’s called channel surfing.” Dean said, almost not wanting to be accused of enjoying the program. “You ladies ready yet?”  
You nodded your head as you slipped on your blazer to complete the final professional look. You stepped into the perfect alignment of the bathroom mirror from your spot in the motel room to fix your hair and make sure everything was in place. “The important question is,” You looked over your shoulder to point a finger at the older Winchester, “Are you?”  
\+ + +  
“One more time—the F.B.I is here why, exactly?”  
You drummed your fingertips against the wooden countertop of the Wellington police station, finding a simple conversation with the sheriff behind the front desk a little more troublesome than you once thought. There wasn’t much exciting things going out in the world. No signs of demonic activity as your friends from above were keeping their lips shut, for now. You still couldn’t find any sort of activity around the world that would help you figure out the whereabouts of Jesse the antichrist, so you kept yourself busy by lurking on the web for a case. And Sam had found one, all right. He might have felt a little deja vu from a case he’d taken about a year ago around the same time.  
“Well, it might have something to do with one of your locals getting his head ripped off.” You said, answering his question.  
“Bill Randolph died from a bear attack.” The sheriff replied, not sure why a fight with mother nature’s beastly creatures required the work of three F.B.I agents that were practicing with fake badges.   
“How sure are you that it was a bear?” Sam asked the sheriff.  
“What else would it be?” The sheriff replied with another question.  
“Whatever it was, it chased Mr. Randolph through the woods, smashed through his front door, followed him up the stairs, and killed him in his bedroom.” You said. You’ve heard of a few strange cases of bear attacks yourself, “I mean, I’ve seen a strange bear…sightings myself when they’re provoked. But is that common—a bear doing all of that?”  
“Depends on how pissed off it is, I guess.” The sheriff remarked, you could hear the faintest amount of snark in his tone. “Look, the Randolphs lived way up in High Country. You got trout runs that’ll make a grown man weep…and bears.”  
“Right.” Sam agreed with the man. “Now, what about Mrs. Randolph? The file says she saw the whole thing.”  
“Yes, she did. My heart goes out to that poor woman.” The sheriff said with a solemn tone. Dean found himself asking if the wife said it was a bear attack. You watched as the sheriff switched his body language, he let out a quiet sigh, knowing this was where the situation had gotten a bit sticky. “Kathy Randolph went through a hell of a trauma. She’s confused.”  
You looked at the sheriff with a skeptical look, wondering what he was trying to hide from you and the boys. “What did she say?”  
“No. I-It must have been a bear. I-I mean, what else could have it been?” Kathy Randolph nervously chuckled as she retold the story she’d given the police a few days ago for her statement, in the exact same police room. She glanced down at her lap as her fingers neatly folded together, you looked over at the younger Winchester for a brief moment, knowing just from the newly widow’s behavior that she was hiding something. “No. I-I remember it clearly now. It was definitely a bear.”  
“We’re sure it was.” Dean agreed with the woman as he slowly nodded his head. “But see, it—it helps us to hear, uh, every angle. So, just tell us what you thought you saw.”  
“Well, it’s impossible, but…I could have sworn I saw…” Mrs. Randolph hesitantly tried to give the truth, but she began speaking slower, and much more hesitantly. “…The incredible hulk.” Your response was absolute silence. You slowly looked away from the woman as you glanced over at Dean, the both of you shared the same look, Sam repeated the woman’s answer with a calm tone, almost as if he wanted to make sure that what he heard was right. “I told you. It’s crazy.”  
Sam tried his hardest to wrap his mind around what he’d just heard. So, Dean being the man he was, decided his take on making sense of what was happening by putting a face to the monster from a few possible suspects. “Bana or Norton?”  
“Oh, no. Those movies were terrible.” Mrs. Randolph said, shaking her head. “The TV hulk.”  
“Lou Ferrigno?” You asked her, wondering if that’s what she meant. Mrs. Randolph quickly nodded her head, you raised your brow in surprise. “Spiky-hair Lou Ferrigno?”  
Mrs. Randolph nodded her head yet again, knowing that was exactly who she had seen. You gave her a smile as the boys exchanged a look, wondering what might have been going on, but she took it as a sign of doubt from her faulty story that was too bizarre to be true. “Oh, you think I’m crazy.” She whispered to herself as she looked down at the table to avoid any awkward eye contact.   
“No. No, i—it’s just—is there, uh…” Dean tried his hardest to form a complete sentence, but just like a bunch of immature men, you looked over slightly to see the boys were finding it hard to keep a straight face as they tried covering up their smiles with coughs or adjustment in their seats. “Would there be any reason that Lou Ferrigno, the Incredible Hulk, uh, would have a grudge against your husband?”  
“What? No.”  
\+ + +  
While you might not have been able to see Mrs. Randolph’s scars, the police reports you found online that were filed against her husband told a much different story.  
You were back at the motel once again after having the interview with Mrs. Randolph to get her side of the story while the boys decided to check out the crime scene. You had your laptop open with a few browsers to the article about Bill Randolph’s death and the police reports filed against him. You were so invested in the reading, you nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard the motel door swing open.  
“Hey,” You greeted the brothers. “You guys find anything?”  
“Well, uh, we saw the house.” Sam said, tossing the keys back into his pocket. “And there is a giant eight-foot-wide hole where the front door used to be. Almost like…”  
“A hulk-sized hole.” You pre-sumed, Sam honestly didn’t know what to think from the look on his face.  
“Maybe.” He said. “What you got?”  
“Well, it turns out that Bill Randolph had quite the temper. Uh, he’s got two counts of spousal battery, bar brawls, and court-ordered anger management sessions.” You said, moving your finger around on the mousepad to bring up the browsers with the police charges filed against the man. “You might say you wouldn’t like him when he’s angry.”  
“So, a hothead getting killed by TV’s greatest hothead. Kind of sounds like just desserts, doesn’t it? It’s all starting to make sense.” Sam quietly chuckled, almost as if he was starting to have a conversation with himself. You glanced up from the computer screen to give him a teasing look, wondering what he was getting at here. You watched as he put a hand into his pocket, fetching around for something that you couldn’t see just yet.all before he pulled out his hand. You notice he was holding something with a fist so little scraps of a golden wrapper peeked out from the crooks of his fingers. “Well, Dean and I found something else at the crime scene. Candy wrappers. Lots of 'em.”  
You reached out a hand to grab a few of the candy wrappers to examine them for a few moments, taking in the information you were given from Sam, “Just deserts, sweet tooth, are we thinking anything?” You muttered, still clueless but the brothers seemed to have arrived at a conclusion.  
“We’re dealing with the trickster.” Sam answered you.  
Sam was already halfway across the motel room, shrugging off his jacket before tossing it to the bed before you raised another question. “Well, I’ve heard about him but never had the chance to see one. Looks like you two have.”  
“That’s one way to put it.” Dean said and you glanced over his way. “Been wanting to gank that mother since mystery spot.”  
You quicky looked over at Sam, “Do I want to know what Mystery spot is?”  
“Trust me, you don’t, Y/N.” he replied to you before turning to his brother. “and you sure?” Sam asked his older brother. Dean looked up at the man from the chair he’d grabbed at the table that was right across from where you’d been sitting. He gave the man a look, obviously he was pretty sure about his plan of venging on a creature that he once thought was dead after he shoved a stake through his chest, all before slipping through his fingers one too many times after that incident. “No. I mean, are you sure you want to kill him?”  
“Son of a bitch didn’t think twice about icing me—a thousand times.” Dean said, his tone rising a bit more to show his buried hatred for the trickster. His words made you more eager to meet this trickster.   
“No. I know.” Sam said. “I-I mean, I’m just saying.”  
“What are you saying, Sammy?” You questioned the younger man. You narrowed your eyes on him, wondering what he was trying get at here. “If you don’t want to kill him, then what? Torture him nice and slow? If so, you got my vote.” You were getting interested in the conversation by the minute.  
“No, Y/N. Talk to him.” Sam insisted on going a more gentler approach, your reaction was what he’d expect. You leaned forward in your seat as you loudly slammed your elbows on the table while your hands cradled your head. “Look, think about it, guys. He’s one of the most powerful creatures we’ve ever met. Maybe we can use him.”  
Dean furrowed his brow in confusion as his brother’s thinking, “For what?”  
“Okay, trickster’s like a—like a Hugh Hefner type, right? Wine, women, song. Maybe he doesn’t want the party to end. I mean,” Sam proposed the idea that had been rattling inside his mind since him and his brother agreed who might have been responsible for all of this. “Maybe he hates this 'angels and demons’ stuff as much as we do. Maybe he’ll help us.”  
“You’re serious? Ally with the trickster? A bloody, violent monster—and you want to be Facebook friends with him?” Dean asked him in a dead serious tone. Sam responded with a nod of the head, “Right, because trusting monsters worked out well before. Nice, Sammy.”  
“The world is gonna end. We don’t have the luxury of a moral stand. I’m just saying, it’s worth a shot. That’s it.” Sam said, trying to make his true intentions clear. You looked at him with a skeptical expression as you took another sip of your drink, he decided to throw in another plan to his idea that you would agree with. “If it doesn’t work, we can kill him.”  
“I’m in.” you announced and soon enough, Dean repeated the words. “Great, but how do we find him?”  
“Well, he never takes just one victim, right? He’ll show.” Sam said, sounding sure of himself.  
\+ + +  
Waiting around for the next trick wasn’t fun. While Dean busied himself by carving a few stakes out of wood, you and Sam kept yourselves busy by staring at the walkie talkie. It’d been almost three hours. But like a prayer that seemed to have been answered, a voice came from the walkie talkie.  
“Uh, dispatch? I got a possible 187 out here at the old paper mill on route six.”  
Sam called for his brother’s attention as you turned up the volume so all of you could hear more clearly the exchange between two officers. “Roger that. What are you looking at, Son.”  
“Honestly, Walt, I wouldn’t even know how to begin to describe what I’m seeing. Just, um, send everybody.”  
You reached out to turn off the device as you looked over at the boys, wondering if they were thinking that it might be exactly what you had been waiting for. “That sounds weird.” Dean said.  
“Weird enough to be our guy?” Sam asked, not wanting to jump the gun on this one.  
You shrugged your shoulders, “There’s only one way to find out.


	17. Changing Channels part 2

You and the boys arrived at the crime scene about twenty minutes later, and by this time, you were at least expecting this place to be crawling with cop cars. But when the Impala pulled up to the warehouse, you peeked out the backseat window and examined the gravel parking lot, there wasn’t a single soul in this place. You examined the area for a moment as you leaned slightly over while you kept a grip around the backseat door, wondering if you might entered through the back and the chaos was unfolding on the other side. But you were only greeted with the crunch of the boys’ shoes underneath the gravel as they made their way towards the trunk.  
“There was a murder here,” Dean said with a bit of skepticism, as he examined the abandoned area with a cautious eye. "And there’s no police cars—there’s nobody. How does that look to you?”  
“Crappy.” You muttered underneath your breath.  
You waited in the middle as Dean opened up the door for Sam to go in first as you followed behind, leaving the older Winchester as backup for the both of you in case something went wrong. And it sure did. But neither one of you could expect this to happen so fast.  
When the door slammed shut, you suddenly felt different, from your bare hands, all the way down to your clothes. You weren’t in the old paper mill anymore, that was for sure. It seemed you and the boys took a wrong turn down the yellow brick road and landed yourselves right in the middle of a busy hospital wing You blinked in absolute confusion as you stared at your new surroundings with faces you’d never seen before. When you glanced down at your hands to see where your equipment went, you felt your eyes widen slightly at what happened to your clothes.  
You were dressed in what appeared to be pale blue scrubs and very comfortable shoes, and from what you felt around your neck, an added touch of a stethoscope. You slowly looked over to your right when you wondered if the boys were still here with you, and they were, but they also had a costume change. Both of them were dressed in navy blue scrubs and long white lab coats. From the looks on their faces, it was easy to tell all of you had no idea what was going on here. And to make matters worse, you looked straight ahead to see two women casually stroll by, giving both men a warm smile as they greeted them.  
“Doctor. Doctor.” The two women nodded their heads at the two men, acknowledging the brothers. “Dr. Y/N.”  
You gave them both a dirty look, making them scurry off to wherever they came from. You let out a sigh as you looked over at the boys, wondering if they had a single clue to figure out of what was going on here, but they could only shrug their shoulders. You looked over your shoulder to see there was a closed door behind you, probably the same one that you came through. Hoping for an exit out of this place, you swung open the door, only to see it was a closet, with two other doctors heavily making out. You quickly slammed the door, deciding that it wasn’t a way out, and it was rude to stare. You and the boys didn’t need to exchange any looks before the three of you were off, trying to figure out what was going on here, and most importantly, a way out.  
“Doctor?” You only made it a few steps before a small woman came out of nowhere, and before you realized, she hauled off and smacked Sam right across the cheek. You slightly winced at the sound as the younger man let out a noise, showing that it was very real. You looked to see that it was a woman dressed in the same outfit as you. She stared at Sam with a perplex expression, but it was easy to see she was overwhelmed with sadness for the man. But it wasn’t about the guilt of slapping him. “Seriously, you’re brilliant, you know that? Seriously. And a coward. You’re a billant coward.”  
“Uh,” Sam wasn’t sure how to respond, “What are you talking about?”  
She brought up her arm and slapped Sam right across the cheek again. “As if you don’t know.” She whispered to him. And if that, you watched as she walked off with her head held high, leaving you even more confused at what just unfolded right in front of your very eyes.  
“I don’t believe this.” Dean muttered underneath his breath with absolute astonishment. You furrowed your brow as you looked over at the man, he stared down at the hall with a growing smile. “That was Dr. Piccolo. Dr. Ellen Piccolo. The sexy-yet-earnest doctor at…” You watched as Dean began to take slow steps forward down the hall and closer to the nurse’s station. “Seattle Mercy Hospital.”  
“Uh, Dean,” You walked forward to him as you cautiously looked around the place, but when you made eye contact with one of the nurses at the desk, you gave her a friendly smile before turning your attention to the oldest Winchester. “What the hell are you talking about?”  
“The doctor get-ups. The sexy interns. The 'seriouslys.’ It all makes sense.” Dean said, seeming to come closer to a conclusion. You stared at him with a frustrated expression, almost getting ready to shake the answer right out of him, “We’re in 'Dr. Sexy, M.D.’”  
Everything around you seemed too real, from the people, to the walls around you. Patients and doctors strolled around the halls, going on with their daily lives like how one might expect of how a hospital should function. You and the boys quietly strolled down the halls trying to keep to yourselves. While Dean kept whispering what the hell, Sam was at a lost for words of what could be going on and how all of you gotten here.  
“One theory. Any theory.” Dean hissed. “Y/N, you’re the smart one.”  
“Uh,” You told him the first thing that came to mind, “the trickster trapped us in TV land?”  
“That’s your theory? That’s stupid.”  
“You’re stupid.”  
“You’re the one who said we’re on 'Dr. Sexy, M.D.” Sam jumped into the conversation to your defense when you gave the other man a dirty look when Dean denied your only working theory.  
“Yeah, but TV land isn’t TV land. I mean, there’s actors a-and lights and crew members. You know? This looks real.” Dean said. But the older Winchester found himself distracted when he stopped in tracks at the sight of a familiar doctor, his lips stretched into a faint smile as he observed her walking down the hall. “Oh, but there goes Dr. Wang, the sexy-but-arrogant heart surgeon. And there’s Johnny Drake. Oh, he’s not even alive. He’s the ghost in the mind of…” You looked over your shoulder to see there was a man down at the end of the hall quietly sitting on a gurney by himself, all before another doctor came up to him and gave him a warm smile. “Of her, the sexy-but-neurotic doctor over there.”  
You found yourself scoffing at what you just heard, “So this show has ghosts? Why?”  
“I don’t know.” Dean said. “It is compelling.”  
“I thought you said you aren’t a fan.” You whispered to him, a smirk growing on your lips.  
“I’m not. I‘m not.” Dean tried to deny the accusation, but what unfolded next made his truth fly out the window. You looked down the hall when you saw Dean’s expression change entirely, it was like he was star struck, you furrowed your brow at the stranger coming down the hall. You had to look twice before you realized who the handsome face really was. “It’s him. It’s Dr. Sexy.”  
Inhaling a deep breath, you understood why his last name worked so well. “Damn, he’s…sexy.” You whispered to yourself. “That’s for sure.”  
You found yourself letting your lips stretch into a smile when the doctor approached the three of you while Dean avoided eye contact all together. He seemed rather bashful, seeing one of his favorite characters come to life. “Doctor.” Dr. Sexy greeted the man first. Dean slowly lifted his gaze from the floor to give the same formal title back to the man, all while trying to keep a straight face. Sam rolled his eyes when the man tried doing it to him, but with a rough jab to the elbow, he forced himself to repeat the stupid dialogue. When you found the doctor’s eyes landing on you, “Dr. Y/N.”  
Before you could repeat the formal greeting, you found your lips being a little preoccupied by something else. Out of nowhere, you felt the doctor become a little bit too warming for your own comfort. Almost like the cycle of the show, you found yourself sharing a romantic kiss with the doctor, who had swooped you off your feet to press his lips against yours. All though your brain was screaming at you to pull away, there was something about him that made you stay for a split second, enjoying the sweet taste that was coming off from him, almost like candy. But before you could make the connection, he pulled away, making you breathless to speak. And as if nothing happened, the doctor looked over at Dean, who was staring at the man with a confused glare.  
“You want to give me one good reason why you defied my direct order to do the experimental face transplant on Mrs. Beale?”  
Dean stared at the man, and without a warning, Dean rammed the man against the wall, pinning his arm roughly against his chest so he wouldn’t go anywhere. “You’re not Dr. Sexy.” Dean accused the man of carrying a false identity. The doctor narrowed his eyes on the hunter, thinking the accusation was crazy. “Really? 'Cause I swore this hospital had a no tolerance for PDA. You just don’t go around kissing people without their permission. And part of what makes Dr. Sexy sexy is the fact that he wears cowboy boots, not tennis shoes.”  
“Yeah, you’re not a fan.” Sam mumbled.  
“It’s a guilty pleasure.” Dean argued with his little brother. Dr. Sexy looked over at the approaching crowd and told them to call security. “Yeah, go ahead, pal. See, we know what you are.”  
You cautiously looked around to see everyone around you was frozen in place, except for the three of you. When you looked straight ahead at the doctor, you found yourself rolling your eyes at a different face in place of Dr. Sexy, with a grin you wanted to smack right off his face “You guys are getting better.”  
“Get us the hell out of here.” Sam hissed at him.  
“Or what?” The trickster asked. He seemed to have found Dean, a man who was a little taller, easy to take down as he pushed him away by squeezing on his forearm. From the look of pain that settled on Dean’s face, the trickster inflicted some serious damage he wasn’t expecting. “Don’t see your wooden stakes, sweetcheeks. But I see you brought a very pretty new friend for show. I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure.”  
“That was you on the police scanner, right?” You asked him, ignoring his cmment. “This is one of your stupid tricks.”  
“Hello-o-o-o? Trickster!” He made it clear enough by pointing at his face, you gave him a dirty look. “Come on! I heard these two yahoos were in town. How could I resist?”  
“Right. Well, I’m trying to resist the urge of punching you in your stupid face.” You said, rolling your eyes. “Where the hell are we?”  
"Oh you’re feisty, I like it! And this place-You like it, sugar? It’s all homemade. My own sets, my own actors.” The trickster prove to be powerful when he rapped his knuckles on the glass window and gestured to all the people around him who were made to believe they were their characters they played on TV. “Call it my own little idiot box.” You gave him a serious look, and painfully, you politely asked him how you could get out of here before you tempted yourself with choking the answer out of him. “That, my friend, is the sixty-four dollar question.”  
“Whatever. We just—We need to talk to you.” Sam said. “We need your help.”  
“Hmm. Let me guess. You two muttonheads broke the world, and you want me to sweep up your mess?” The trickster presumed. Sam, being the only one who was trying to play nice, asked only five minutes of the man’s time. “Sure. Tell you what. Survive the next twenty-four hours, we’ll talk.”  
You narrowed your eyes in suspicion, “Survive what?”  
“The game.” The trickster answered with a grin.  
“What game?”  
“You’re in it.”  
“…How do we play?”  
“You’re playing it.”  
“How do we play it, you jackass?” Dean asked him your final question between clenched teeth.  
The trickster answered with a smirk, you knew that wasn’t a good sign, because when you blinked, the man was gone from your sight, all before putting everything back to normal. You found yourself rolling your eyes as Dean muttered his favorite catchphrase underneath his breath. So much for meeting the trickster.  
\+ + +  
You’ve never wanted someone’s bloody severed head on a spike more than you had at this very moment. If he wanted you to play this stupid game, fine. Lucifer could wait just a little longer, and there was no angel or demon to mess with you, the only target you had your sights on was the trickster himself. He might have gotten you and the boys cornered, but you were coming out swinging when he least suspected it.   
“Oh, by the way—talking to monsters? Hell of a plan, Sam.” You turned the corner of the hospital you and the boys were still trapped in after the trickster vanished from your sight. Sam walked behind you, and from the tone of your voice, he didn’t need to see the expression on your face to realize you were beyond pissed off.   
You managed to find a doorway that was labeled an exit in neon red letters, but before you could head for it, you were stumbling out of the way when a flash of brunette hair and blue scrubs came right into your vision from the corner of your eye. You got out of the way when Dr. Ellen Piccolo made her move again on Sam, but before he could fall victim to another backhanded slap, he dodged the assault, making her freeze. "Lady,” Sam warned her with a frustrated tone, “What the hell?”  
Ellen stared at the man with a passionate and fiery gaze, “You are a brillant, brillant—”  
“Yeah, a coward. You already said that. But I got news for you.” Sam cut the woman off, already knowing where this entire scene was going. “I’m not a doctor.”  
“Don’t say that. You are the finest cerebrovascular neurosurgeon I have ever met…and I have met plenty.” Ellen told him. You looked at her slightly with a funny gaze, wondering what was unfolding right in front of your eyes. “So that girl died on your table. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault.”  
Sam nodded his head slowly, "I have no idea what you’re saying to me.”  
“You’re afraid.” Ellen said. You could see her eyes were becoming glazed over as she stared at the man in front of her, “You’re afraid to operate again, and you’re afraid to love again.”  
You found yourself letting out a quiet laugh as Ellen dramatically walked down the hall, Dean, however, looked at his brother with complete surprise at what had unfolded right in front of his eyes. The three of you only managed to get a few feet before somebody else popped out from an open doorway of what you were presuming was a hospital room. Rolling your eyes in frustration, you stopped in your tracks and looked at the man, but it was Dean who he was speaking to.  
“Doctor?” The man standing in the doorway timidly asked. “My wife needs that face transplant.”  
"Okay.” Dean muttered underneath his breath, having enough with this show. “You know what, pal? None of this is real, okay? And your wife doesn’t need jack squat.”  
Dean thought that maybe the man could understand his reality was false, But it seemed he couldn’t get that through his thick skull, as the show kept going, only for a dramatic twist to spice things up. You looked over your shoulder slightly when you heard the man call out again, but this time, he was done talking civilly. You didn’t notice the gun he pulled out from his back pocket, and when you did, it was too late. You heard the familiar sound of a gunshot echoing through your ears, and someone’s tight grip around your forearm. Quickly looking over at Dean, you realized that this reality the trickster put you in was very real, and the bullet in Dean’s back was pumping blood that wasn’t a prop. Your eyes widened in shock as you felt yourself being dragged to your knees as Dean found the pain becoming unbearable.  
"No, no, no, no!” Sam panicked as dropped himself to his brother’s level. He tried to help the man work through the man, and without thinking he shouted on the top of his lungs for help as a small crowd began to form around all of you. “Hey! We need a doctor!”  
“Sammy,” You got his attention after the younger Winchester frantically looked for help when it was all around you. “You do realize we’re in a hospital full of doctors, right?”  
While you and the boys might have been in one of the safest places to get shot in, that didn’t mean the script of this reality would let Dean get treatment from a medically trained profession. You stood outside of the operating room with your lips pouted out to match the tightly furrowed brow on as you crossed over your chest in frustration. Dean was luckily being taken care of for the surgery they needed to complete, and while he might have been numbed up and lying face down, he was wide awake for the surgery—and Sam was his doctor. You tried your hardest to squeeze yourself into the operating room but you were quickly thrown out by a few of the female nurses after they claimed you were just an intern. But little did they know that between the three of you, you were the one who had the most knowledge when it came to medicine. After all, you attended med school before switching to hunting.  
So, you were forced to wait on the other side of the glass, watching Sam’s every little move he made. When you saw appear from the corner of your eye, you slowly turned your head to see that it was Ellen standing right next to you. She stared on at the younger Winchester with almost a proud gaze, thinking it was brave of him to conquer his fear of losing another patient by trying to help save the life of his older brother. You found yourself rolling your eyes so far in the back of your head, only the whites of your eyes showed before it started to hurt.  
“B.P. is eighty over fifty…and dropping.”  
If you were having a rough time here, Sam felt like someone had thrown him to the wolves. He was surrounded by nurses who were talking medical that even he didn’t understand and handing him tools that he didn’t know how to use. Sam wasn’t a stranger to bullet wounds, he’d faced plenty in his time of hunting, and patched up a few himself. But all he needed was some hard whiskey, a switchblade and a sewing needle to get the job done. The female nurse at his right side wouldn’t stop trying to give him a scalpel, even though his hands were clearly filled with some gauze as he tried to stop Dean’s wound from bleeding so much. The nurse tried again to get him to grab the scalpel, nervously swallowing, her gave her a small smile and shook his head.  
“Sam, do something.” Dean hissed at his little brother, knowing his life was on the line. “Come on.”  
“I don’t know how to use any of this crap.” Sam admitted, making sure to keep his voice no louder than a whisper.  
“Figure it out!” Dean wasn’t in the mood to hear the man’s excuses. “Sam! Come on. I’m waiting.”  
Sam found himself unable to move, not knowing what to do before he heard your voice. You’d found the mic in the gallery and you started talking Sam through it.  
“Okay, Sam, listen to me.” You gave him a reassuring smile as he glanced towards you, “Just do as I say, okay? You’ve done this tons of times before, you can do it now too.”  
Sam found the instructions coming out from his mouth just a few seconds later after he allowed himself to emerge into the role and listen to your instructions. You were happy to see there was progress being made.  
In just the matter of minutes Sam got what he needed to operate and got to work, following your words carefully. You watched as the man took out the bullet, dropping it out as it made a soft clanking noise against the metal table next to him that only he could hear. And just a few minutes later, he was stitching up Dean’s wounds, announcing to his brother that he’d make a full recovery. Sam turned to you, but he found his gaze lingering over to Ellen, who been watching him the entire time. She stared at him with a soft smile as her hands rested in the pockets of her lab coat. It wasn’t hard to see her cheeks were stained with tears after she began crying at how easy the man gotten over his fear of operating once more. To make matters worse, when she made eye contact with him, her smile grew as she mouthed “I love you” to him and pressed her palm against the glass. Sam found himself getting weirded out as she stared lovingly at him.  
While Sam tried brushing off the incident as nothing, he slowly dragged his attention away from the woman, and to you. You gave him a wide smile and he reciprocated, knowing his brother was okay because of your help. You and the boys had completed your first role, little did you know this was the beginning of what the trickster had planned.  
\+ + +  
Everything sort of happened faster than you could process. First you were standing outside of the Settle Mercy Hospital hallway in comfortable scrubs and sneakers, and then all of a sudden, your senses were being pounded with loud noises and indistinct voices you couldn’t understand. While you were beginning to suspect the trickster had thrown you into another show, what you were about to see would be the least of your guesses. Everything around you was colorful and too bright for your eyes to handle from the stage lights straight ahead. You squinted your eyes slightly to see that you were on a stage and with an audience just ahead, but it was hard to see nothing more than shadowy figures without distinct faces. However, you did see two familiar faces, only they were in a pretty strange predicament. Just…not as bad as yours.  
“What the…” You furrowed your brow as you looked around for a moment, knowing right away from the setup of this place that you and the boys had landed yourselves on the set of a game show. And while the boys were the players, you must have been Vanna White, minus the swanky dresses. "What the hell am I wearing?!“  
You noticed right away the outfit wasn’t exactly you were used to wearing. You were wearing a white dress that generously showed off your cleavage and ended a little bit too before your knees. The skirt had lace and had layers. As you moved your body, you felt the weight of two feathery white wings attached to the dress, behind your back and to make matters worse, there was a halo headband to tie it all together. The tie up white heels weren’t the least bit comfortable nor covering your legs. The rosy pink color on your cheeks began to darken when you heard someone softly whistle, and of course, Dean found the sight of you embarrassed and barely clothed amusing. You gave him a dirty look before averting your gaze, trying your hardest to find a way out of here, but the plan only stayed in action for a few seconds before the show continued on.  
You quickly turned your head to the right of you when out of nowhere a man came strolling through a pair of double sliding doors that happened to be right next to you. While the crowed loved him, you couldn’t understand a single word he was saying, because if you had to guess correctly at the outfits and crazy setup of the place, the next challenge was a Japanese game show.  
"Let’s play ‘Nutcracker’!” The announcer shouted with a grin, making the audience go wild with applause. You slightly winced at what was happening here as you examined the strange contraptions that the boys were in. Maybe you were starting to second guess at how you were handling this new show. The man pulled out a few cards from his pocket of his very metallic looking suit. You still couldn’t understand a single word he was saying, until, he spoke a very familiar man’s name. “Sam Winchester…” Sam was caught off guard and stared at you and his brother like a deer in headlights. The man couldn’t understand the question that was being asked of him in Japanese. “What was the name of the demon who chose you over your own brother?”  
“What? Uh…What am I supposed to say?” Sam found himself baffled for a right answer. Normally he was good at these kind of things. He looked at you and his brother for help, but neither one of you had a clue of what was going on. And the ticking time wasn’t helping your anxiety of what might happen when it turned to zero. “Uh, I-I don't—I don’t understand, uh, japanese.” The host did just that, asking a simple question Sam should have known, only if he could understand what he really was saying. The younger Winchester let out a chuckle, “Is he screwing with me? I-I-I can’t speak japane—”  
But it was too late. The time on the clock ran out an alarm buzzed, making it known Sam had lost this round. The host shook his head in disappointment as he looked down at his cards. “The answer is…Ruby.” He read off the paper, but neither one of you could still understand him, until he spoke a very familiar name. You furrowed your brow as Sam looked confused, wondering why a dead demon’s name was brought up. “I’m sorry, Sam Winchester.”  
“Sorry?” Sam asked, a bit baffled at the early apology. “Sorry for what?”  
It seemed you were going to understand how the show got its name after Sam took an unwanted demonstration. Your eyes widened in absolute shock when you watched as one of the contraptions keeping the boys in place went swinging up, and right in the area which wasn’t the pleasant to feel a force against. You winced as Sam felt maximum pain in his lower region, worse than what he was used to feeling. His face turned red as he tried his hardest to brush off the pain like it was nothing. But the small grunts he let out as he folded over made you realize he’d gotten more than just a swift kick.   
“Sam,” You tried your hardest to bend down to his region, but with your outfit that barely covered anything. You only ended up standing straight and giving him a sympathetic expression, knowing he was still trying to brush off the last effects of the pain. “You okay there, buddy?”  
“Peachy.” Sam managed to say between clenched teeth. You could see that he was beginning to get better when he turned his head slightly to look at you better from the corner of his eye. His face scrunched up in discomfort at what he noticed you wearing. “Nice outfit, by the way.”  
“Shut up.” You muttered to him, But it seemed you were about to have far worse problems. You looked over at the double doors that you had been previously standing next to when you heard banging coming from the other side. Rolling your eyes, you thought this was part of the game.   
As the doors slid open, you realized the day might have just been saved by the familiar Cas himself. He headed out to the stage, but he seemed unsure of what was going on here and the theatrics the host put on when he caught sight of the angel. “Is this another trick?” Sam whispered to you and Dean.  
“It’s me.” Cas said, reassuring the younger man. He furrowed his brow at the sight of the boys, but it was another story for the expression on his face when he caught sight of you. Rolling your eyes, quickly put up your hand, not wanting to discuss this right now. All you wanted to do was go home and pretend this entire situation never happened. “Uh, what are you doing here?”  
“Us?” You asked him with confusion. “What are you doing here?”  
“Looking for you.” Cas answered. “You’ve been missing for days.”  
“Get us the hell out of here, then.” Sam hissed at the angel, having had enough of this.  
Cas didn’t need to be told twice. You watched as he took just a few steps forward, but just like that, he quickly disappeared from your sight. “No, no, no, no.” The host slowly shook his head and began walking forward to the three of you. “Mr. Trickster does not like pretty boy angels.”  
“Yeah, well, I’m sure Mr. Trickster wouldn’t like my foot up his ass.” You muttered underneath your breath, mocking the man.  
The host laughed off your threat as he pulled out his index cards again from his suit jacket, deciding it was time to continue on with the game. He spoke a few words in japanese again that you couldn’t understand before going to another question. “Dean Winchester…” The man looked a little bit frightened when it was his turn to play. And it didn’t help that the host was still speaking in a foreign language he barely understood. “Would your mother and Father still be alive if your brother was never born? Countdown!”  
“What do I do? What do I do, Y/N?” Dean questioned you with a panicked tone. You gave him a very baffled look as you shrugged your shoulders. “I don’t want to get hit in the nuts.”  
“I know, uh, uh….” Sam came to his brother’s rescue, “I played a doctor. In–In 'Dr. Sexy.’ I played a doctor. I operated. So, I played the role the trickster wanted me to play. M-maybe we just have to go along with it.” Dean looked at his brother, not sure what he meant by that. “With the game. I mean, we’re on a game show, right? So, just answer the question.”  
“In japanese? I don’t know japanese!” Dean hissed at his little brother, the only remark he’d gotten back when you looked at the clock was for him to try. The entire room fell silent, and as the man wasn’t sure how this would work, he opened his mouth and spoke—all in fluent japanese. “The answer is….yes?”  
The entire place fell into an eerie silence. But you found yourself letting out a heavy sigh of relief at the news you heard next. “Dean Winchester–'Nutcracker’ champion!”  
“So that’s it.” You forced yourself to smile even more and began clapping in the direction of the crowd of faceless shadows as the host demonstrated for you to do so after he dramatically threw his cards up in the air. “We play our roles, we survive.”  
“Yeah.” Dean agreed, but he found a slight flaw in your thinking. The trickster said that all of you would win this game if all of you survived for twenty four hours. But according to Cas, it’d already been a few days. “Play our roles for how long?”  
You forced your smile to grow wider at the thought, “Good question,”  
\+ + +  
The change of scenery was quite different from the last position you were thrown into. You were outside on a sunny morning with your view of the lake and you were standing barefoot on a dock. While you were in more comfortable clothing this time in yoga pants and a tank top, you tried your hardest not to let the discomfort of this little commercial the trickster decided to throw in for giggles. You inhaled a deep breath as you balanced yourself enough to outstretch your left leg and position your right arm out in front of you to create the perfect pose. Looking straight ahead, you tried your hardest to make yourself say the four words, despite how uncomfortable it made you feel. Your lips stretched into a tight smile, and between clenched teeth, you forced yourself to say it.  
“I’ve got genital herpes.” You announced to nobody there.  
An older man sat in his living room with his wife beside him, both of them shared a small smile before announcing a little secret that he’d been keeping from the world. “I have genital herpes.”  
Sam and Dean were off playing a round of basketball somewhere else with a few other guys they’ve never seen before in their life. But the younger Winchester played along, he easily got himself a shot as he watched the ball go into the hoop before it dropped to the pavement. Letting it bounce over to another player, Sam turned around in his spot, and while he knew what to say, the man wouldn’t do it. “Seriously?”  
“Yes, seriously. You’re the one who opened your big, fat mouth and told us to play our roles.” You hissed at him from your position on the dock. “Say it or I’m gonna kick you in your balls again.”  
“Okay, okay.” Sam mumbled, throwing his hands up in a defensive position for a split second “I’ve got genital herpes.”  
'This is so stupid.“ You muttered underneath your breath. Now you were sitting down on the ground with your legs crossed over one another and your hands in a praying position against your chest. Still, you played along, saying your next line. "I tried to be responsible.”  
The old man glanced over at his wife, she gave him a look, almost like she was pissed at him, but she gave him a tight smile. Maybe he cheated on her with a younger woman, that’s why he got an STD, for being an irresponsible dirty old man. “Did I try.” He admitted.  
“Now I take twice-daily Herpexia to reduce my chances of passing it on.” Sam said, making himself continue on, despite the embarrassment he was feeling at this very moment.  
You changed your position again, now this time, you were standing with the sunlight hitting the water, making just the right shadow across your body as you outstretched your arms. Rolling your eyes, you made sure to give the proper advice to anybody watching this. “Ask your doctor about using Herpexia.”  
“Patients should always consult with a physician before Herpexia. Possible side effects include headache, diarrhea, permanent erectile dysfunction, and thoughts of suicide.“  
"I am doing all I can to slightly lessen the spread of—of…genital herpes.” Sam forced out his last line for this stupid commercial. But he began to realize that pulling all his teeth out would seem less painful than what he was being put through. “And that’s a good thing.”  
Sam let out a sigh of relief when he said his final line, and with that, he turned away from whoever he was supposed to be talking to and headed back to the game with his brother. You, however, still found yourself stranded on the dock as you now sat on the ground with your legs stretched out.   
\+ + +  
“Son of a bitch!”  
“You can say that again.”  
You’d been on a medical drama, played for a chance not to get hit in the balls, and you advertised for a medication that would help keep someone’s genital herpes in check. You though the trickster was done having his fun of making all of you feel ridiculous. But he was just getting started. He wanted to see how much he could push on your very thin nerves before you would snap in half. He decided the next adventure would be something a bit more lighthearted to cheer all of you up. Yet it was doing the complete opposite for you. From the looks of the brightly lit room with its vibrant colors and manic laugh track, you and the boys were starring in your own sitcom, cringe-inducing opening credits included.  
You’ve been here for less than a few minutes and you could tell from the shenanigans that he was making all of you play out was to make it seem like you were in one of those cheesy half an hour shows that aired in the late nineties. It was those sitcoms where people tuned in to see what kind of problem the characters would face that would be neatly wrapped up in thirty minutes. You stood in the bathroom doorway with your cheeks beginning to blossom a tint of red when you realized what you were wearing. And you wondered why, yet again, of you were being degraded.  
“What the hell does a girl have to do around here to get some pants?” Your question wasn’t meant to be funny as you asked between clenched teeth. But the anger was dismissed by your cheery smile as you slowly looked around the room, wondering where that laugh was coming from. It seemed to have come from out of thin air, because you and the boys were the only ones here. “How long do we have to keep doing this?”  
“I don’t know.” Sam admitted with a nervous smile. He stepped away from the door he’d arrived in as he looked over to his right, wondering if the audience that was supposed to be watching you would start laughing. “Maybe forever? We might die in here.”  
The audience seemed to have found the idea of slowly rotting away into a fictional world with no escape hilarious from the sound of a roar of laughter. it seemed that Dean wasn’t in the mood to play nice anymore. “How is that funny?” He asked the room, almost as if he was going to get a response from the obvious silence that followed after. “Vultures.”  
Without a warning, the motel door swung open, and came in Cas with a bit of a stumble. He looked like he had put up one hell of a fight with whatever the trickster tried putting in his way from the bruises around his eye and bloody nose. But it was no match for the angel. You furrowed your brow in concern from how he looked, yet it seemed he was rather more confused at what you were wearing than himself.  
“You look cold.” Cas pointed a finger at your outfit, seeming to think the idea of your wardrobe choice was most important to start the conversation with. You rolled your eyes in annoyance, but the audience, of course, burst out laughing from the hilarious remark. Cas furrowed his brow in confusion as he cautiously looked around the room from the noise that appeared out of nowhere. “Where did that come from?”  
“I don’t know. I don’t care. But I want to get out here.” You whispered to him, thinking if you kept your voice down they could hear. “You okay, Cas? Looks like you came out from an MMA fight.”  
“I don’t have much time. I got out.” Cas said. You didn’t give him much of a chance to explain himself as you jumped every chance to ask him what was going on. “Listen to me. Something is not right. This thing is much more powerful than it should be.”  
“What thing—the trickster?” Dean asked, wondering if that was what the angel meant.  
Cas looked uneasy, “If it is a trickster.”  
You found the question what Cas meant by the assumption at the tip of your tongue, but before you could verbally speak it, the thought was thrown out of your mind just as Cas was tossed across the room. He landed roughly against the wall before tumbling to the ground. Before either one of you could help Cas, it seemed all of you had a special guest, and it was a face you wanted to do terrible things to that wouldn’t have been allowed on basic cable. Your lips stretched into a snarling frown when you watched as the trickster popped into the motel room to make his grand entrance with a toothy grin.   
“Thank you. Thank you. You’re too kind.” The trickster ate up the attention like it was candy. Cas might have taken the opportunity to stand up back on his feet, but before he could say anything, he was silenced by the duct tape on his mouth. You looked over the trickster, and from the look on his face, it was almost as if he was reunited with a good friend. And his greeting to the man made you feel like something was off here. “Hi there, Castiel.”  
Your brow tightened in confusion from what was going on here.. Slowly, you were wondering if Cas was right about the trickster not being who he said he was. “How do you know him?”  
“Where did you just send him?” Dean’s question overshadowed yours.  
“Relax. He’ll live.” The trickster brushed off the hunter’s threatening tone with a nonchalant one of his own. “Maybe.”  
"That’s it, I’m done! I’m done with your stupid games and whatever monkey dance you’re putting us through.” You found yourself snapping much quicker than you had anticipated. “We get it, okay? Send us back home, now. Or else.”  
“Or else, what?” The trickster asked, seeming only amusing at your attempts of acting brave. He arched a brow up as his lips stretched into a smirk when he knew damn well he was getting you all wound up. “I keep growing more and more fond of you, sygar.”  
“Watch it, buddy. You’re going down a slippery slope of me punching your heart out.” Dean hissed at the other man. “Y/N’s right. We get whatever stupid lesson you’re trying to make. I’m done with this monkey dance.”  
“Yeah?” The trickster asked. “Get what, hotshot?”  
“Playing our roles, right?” Dean questioned the other man. “That’s your game?”  
“That’s half the game.”  
“What’s the other half?”  
“Playing your roles out there.” The trickster said in a showy voice as he wiggled his fingers in the air for added effect. “You know—Sam, starring as Lucifer. Dean, starring as Michael. Your celebrity deathmatch. Play your roles.”  
“You want us to say yes to those sons of bitches?” Sam asked, you could hear the disbelief in his tone from what he was hearing.  
The trickster was nothing but serious as he grinned, “Hells, yeah. Let’s light this candle!”  
“We do that, the world will end.” You said with a hardening tone, wanting to make it clear of what trouble he was starting. “Or does your brain not comprehend the consequences? Unless—”  
"Last time I checked, you don’t have any speaking roles in the script, Ishika. Dumb and dumber get to have all the big action scenes. I mean, who broke the first seal? Who popped Lucifer out of the box, again?” The trickster cut you off, keeping your assumptions to yourself for a few moments longer, but you hadn’t missed what he’d just called you. You crossed your arms over your chest, knowing there was something going on here that you didn’t realize without Cas’ help. “Look, it’s started. You started it. It can’t be stopped. So, let’s get it over with.”  
“Heaven or Hell—which side are you on?” Dean asked a simple question, wondering if the trickster was all about his virtues. The trickster laughed off the presumption by saying that he wasn’t siding with either one. “Yeah, right. You’re grabbing ankle for Michael and Lucifer. Which one is it?”  
The trickster chuckled underneath his breath as he took a step forward “You listen here, you arrogant dick. I don’t work for either one of those S.O.B.’s, believe me.”  
“Hmm. Oh, so you’re somebody’s bitch.”  
The trickster retaliated by grabbing Dean and roughly turning him around in his spot before throwing him against the door. “Don’t you ever, ever presume to know what I am.” He told the older Winchester with a dead serious tone, wanting to make his point clear. Dean could tell he had touched a very sensitive nerve in him. You narrowed your eyes slightly when you stared at the trickster. “Now, listen very closely. Here’s what’s gonna happen. Y/N, you’re not a part of this. You helped open the cage, that’s all you had to do. Take my advice and get aside while you still can. And as for you two knuckleheads. You’re gonna suck it up, accept your responsibilities, and play your roles destiny has chosen for you.”  
“And if we don’t?” Dean asked him.  
"Then you’ll stay here in TV land…forever.” The trickster answered. “Three hundred channels and, uh, nothing’s on.”  
And with the snap of his fingers, you and the boys were off to your next TV show.  
\+ + +  
You found yourself in the middle of a park in the middle of the night, but with people surrounding the entire area dressed in police uniforms and flashes coming from cameras, it seemed you had landed yourself right in the middle of an active crime scene. You had a bit of a hard time seeing in the dark with the sunglasses you found yourself wearing. But you were nevertheless happy when you glanced down at your outfit; it was a black pant suit with a dark blue button up. You looked over at the boys, only to make the horrifying discovery that all of you were wearing the exact same outfit. You found yourself cringing at what was going on here, and how ridiculous you felt. Without an ounce of hesitance, you dropped the sunglasses to the ground. You lifted up your foot, and by using your heel of your shoe, you brought all your body weight down and crushed the lenses.  
“Nope.” You muttered underneath your breath. “Not doing this.”  
“So,” You looked up to see one of the coroners had crossed the yellow police tape to greet all of you. His question was innocent enough, but you scoffed in annoyance. “What do you think?”  
“What do I think?” You repeated after him, wondering that was what he meant. When he nodded his head, you answered his question. “Go screw yourself, that’s what I think.”  
“Uh, can you give us a sec, please?” Sam jumped into the conversation by giving the man an apologetic smile from the aggression you were tossing at him. “You need to calm down, Y/N.”  
“Calm down? Don’t tell me to calm down. I’m wearing sunglasses at night. You know who does that? No-talent douche bags.” You hissed at him. “God, this is so stupid! I hate the trickster. And I hate this stupid, freaking game.”  
“Tell me about it. Why couldn’t we land in something decent?” Dean complained. “I hate that we’re in a procedural cop show. And want to know why? Because I hate procedural cop shows! There’s like three hundred of them on television. They’re all the freaking’ same. It’s, 'Ooh,a plane crashed here. Oh, shut up!”  
“Oh you think Dr. Sexy is great.” You snickered at Dean.  
"Hey.” Sam cut off an argument before it could start. He brought you and his brother back into the reality of the situation you were currently dealing with. You looked over your shoulder to see that Sam was pointing at the man that had briefly talked to you. He was now back on the other side of the tape talking to a few forensic workers and a cop. What Sam noticed was the lollipop he was sucking on. “Check out sweet tooth over there.”  
“Think that’s him?” You asked.  
“Just, uh, follow my lead.” Sam said, seeming to have a plan already in action.  
Sam slipped his sunglasses back on to complete the look as Dean hesitantly followed in the man’s actions, slipping the tacky accessory back on his face before walking for the crime scene. You stood in your spot for a few moments, watching as the boys played their ridiculous roles, adding all the dramatic effects of walking and making you roll your eyes at how terrible this was turning out. You pulled up the yellow police tape and followed behind, wanting nothing more than to be done with this mess.   
“Uh,” The coroner pulled out the lollipop from his mouth as he furrowed his brow slightly, wondering why the boys had arrived in a rather slow fashion. “You guys okay?”  
“Yeah.” Dean replied with a gravelly tone. “What do we got?”  
“You got anymore of those…” You pointed at what the man was holding in his hand, and at first he thought you were talking about his lollipop, but you were gesturing to the gloves he was wearing. You thanked him when he managed to fetch out a pair. Slipping them on, you decided to examine the dead body for yourself. In a way, you’ve always wanted to do something like this. You studied biology because the anonymity of the human body always interested you. Crouching down, you took notice of everything, coming up with a conclusion just a mere seconds later. “Well, aside from the ligature marks around his neck, he has what appears to be a roll of quarters jammed down his throat. You could say his killer left him…all choked up.”  
“Well, I say…” Sam joined in on the terrible puns, making you roll your eyes. “Jackpot.”  
“Hmm. Not bad.” The man said as he joined down to your level.  
“I can’t let you boys have all the fun. And don’t let looks be deceiving. I’m much more than a pretty face.” You made a sly remark, but you didn’t dwindle on it for too long. You pointed your finger to the blood soaked spot on the victim’s shirt,. “There was a stab wound to the lower abdomen there.”  
“Well, I say,” Dean pushed himself to his feet as you joined him just a few moments later. You snapped off your gloves as he slipped his sunglasses back on to deliver another tacky one-liner. “No guts, no glory.”  
Sam followed in his brother’s actions, delivering another. “Get that guy a…tums.”  
“Gutterball.” Dean said with a smooth delivery.  
The coroner chuckled to himself, finding all of this funny as he was too distracted by skimming over the notes he’d been taking. You watched as the boys surrounded the man, Dean was still holding the stick he’d grabbed from the ground, and without warning, he rammed it into the man’s stomach. Your lips stretched into a satisfied smirk as blood began pouring from the man’s wounds as Dean pulled out the stick to do the most damage.  
While it seemed like you might have caught the right guy, things weren’t always what they appeared. You could hear the sounds of someone laughing, breaking the silence. The trickster was here, “You got the wrong guy, idiot.” The trickster taunted Dean.  
“Did we?” You asked him. But you weren’t anywhere near in his sight. You were right behind him with a much bigger branch than Dean had used. Without a single warning, you jammed the branch into the trickster’s stomach. “Don’t mess with the bull unless you want to get the horns.”  
The trickster had pulled his final move. You stepped back when you watched in the blink of an eye as your surroundings turned from the crime scene in the park turned back into the warehouse you and the boys had originally been. To be safe, you glanced down at your clothes, a sigh of relief fell from your lips as you ran your hands down your jacket, suddenly overwhelmed with joy at being back in your own reality. You glanced down at the ground to make sure the lifeless body was surely dead. But…there was a small part of you that was just a bit hesitant to say this was over.


	18. Changing Channels part 3

The next morning came quickly. Dean had been up since his brother woke him about an hour ago after being a little too loud getting ready. Since this hunt was officially wrapped up, it was time to pack it all up and find another case. But there was something bothering Dean as he brushed his teeth at the bathroom sink. He tried calling Cas’ phone to see if he was all right, yet all he gotten was the very awkward voicemail you had helped the angel set up.  
“I’m worried, man. What that S.O.B. did to Cas.” Dean tapped his toothbrush against the sink to get off any excess water before putting it back into the flimsy case. “You know, where is he?” He waited to hear his little brother’s response, but all he heard was silence. Furrowing his brow, he stepped out from the bathroom to see there was nobody in the room with him. “Sammy?”  
Dean looked around the motel room to see if he could find his brother, but to his surprise, he was all alone. He thought that his little brother might have been in your room this morning,. But when he checked on your room, things were only getting weirder when he realized you were gone, too.  
Thinking he might know a few spots of where you or Sam could be, Dean headed for the parking lot where the Impala had been quietly waiting since last night. Slipping into the car by himself, he tried one more time to make a call. “Y/N, it’s me. Where the hell did you and Sam go? Call me back.” He shut his phone again, letting out a frustrated sigh as he reached into his pockets to put his phone away in exchange for his car keys. While he was about to get the Impala running, someone’s voice caught him off guard.  
“Dean?”  
It was his brother. The oldest Winchester found himself looking around in the car, wondering if he had been sitting in the backseat for some reason, but again, the man couldn’t find him anywhere. “Sam. Where are you?”  
“I don’t know.” Sam admitted. Dean slowly looked down at the dashboard clock to see the noise was coming right in front of him. His entire cassette player was gone, replaced by a machine that looked straight out of…a show that Dean could recall from the early eighties. Sam soon figured out about how he was talking as the red colours on the dashboard match the timing too perfectly. “Oh, crap. I don’t think we killed the trickster.”  
“Ya think? Well, if you’re….this,” Dean gestured his hands around the interior of the Impala “Then where the hell is Y/N?” Right when he asked the question, he noticed there was tiny angel doll attached to his dashboard that he’d never seen before, full with the wings and halo. “Y/N. You okay?”  
“…Define okay.” Your voice came out crystal clear from the doll but it wasn’t exactly moving, except your skirt dancing side to side like bobbing heads. You said something, but you found yourself letting out what sounded like an involuntary giggle from Dean touching the doll. “Dean, that tickle—Oh, crap.”  
It seemed the three of you weren’t off the hook just yet, the trickster had an old move up his sleeve and one more show to live through. "Okay, so stake didn’t work.” Dean sat at the wheel of the Impala like normal as he drove down the road. “So, what? This another trick?”  
“I don’t know. Maybe the stake didn’t work because it’s not a trickster.” You said, seeming to believe that your earlier encounters gave you a clue to who the trickster really was. Dean seemed interested in your theory, asking what you meant by that, but you couldn’t exactly say that your suspicion was based on him calling you Ishika since you hadn’t told them about seeing Lucifer yet. “I mean, you heard Cas. He said this thing was too powerful to be a trickster.”  
"Yeah,” Dean agreed with what you were saying, “And did you notice the way he looked at Cas? Almost like he knew him.”  
“And how pissed he got when you brought up Michael and Lucifer.” Sam added.  
“Guys,” Your voice took over the silence in the car, “I think I know what we’re dealing with.”  
It took you a while to piece together all of the information until you figured out exactly what you were dealing with. Cas wasn’t your first angel you ever met. But you didn’t know his name just yet. All signs seemed to have been pointing to your theory. It would make sense of why he would call you by the same name as Lucifer. All of you headed to the woods for more of a private setting to make sure this was right. Dean parked the Impala and headed for the trunk to find the right supplies needed.  
“Dean?” Sam spoke up from inside the Impala, his brother annoying called out what, wondering what the man wanted. “That, um, feels really uncomfortable.”  
The older Winchester rolled his eyes and slammed the trunk shut, causing his little brother to let out a noise from the pain. While both of them were unsure if this was going to work, you reassured them that this would work. Dean headed for the front of the Impala and looked around at the empty sight of trees “All right, you son of a bitch!” Dean shouted at the top of his lungs, “We’ll do it!”  
“Should I honk?” Sam asked, Dean rolled his eyes.  
It took a few moments for someone to appear, but just like you had predicted, a very familiar face had come out from the woodwork. “Sam, get a load of the rims on you.” The trickster complimented the younger man as he took a few steps forward to the Impala. “Okay, boys, ready to go quietly?”  
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Not so fast.” Dean stopped the trickster from doing anything..” Nobody’s going anywhere until Sam and Y/N have opposable thumbs.”  
“What’s the difference? Y/N still has opposable thumbs, although tiny I’ll say.” The trickster thought he was being funny, but it only caused Dean to look at the man with a threatening glare. The trickster rolled his eyes, and with the snap of his fingers, everything returned normal once more. The driver’s side door was pushed open as your feet swung out, Sam followed suit in your actions not a second later. You and Sam were back to your normal selves, human. The both of you walked over to where Dean was standing, leaving a few feet as a distance from the trickster. “Happy?”  
“Mmm. Not yet.” You said, Taking a step forward to him, you gave no warning when you quickly swung your arm up and gave a punch that was directly aimed at the trickster’s face. Pain settled in not even a second later when you did the damage, you tried brushing it off as you waved your bruising hand slightly. “Now I am.”  
“She’s beauty, she’s grace,” Dean muttered underneath his breath with a smirk as he watched the trickster reach up a hand to wipe away the spec of blood from his bottom lip. “She’ll punch you in the face.”  
“Don’t worry. There’s more where that came from.” You reassured the trickster as you wiggled around your fingers, happy to know that nothing was broken. “Now, tell me one thing. Why didn’t the stake kill you?”  
“I am the trickster.” He said.  
“But maybe you’re not.” You said, calling out his bluff for the last time. Sam reached inside his pocket and pulled out a lighter, by flicking only once, he dropped it to the ground over the holy oil. “Maybe you’ve always been an angel.”  
“An angel?” The trickster laughed off your accusation, “Somebody slip a mickey in your coffee, sugar?”  
"I’ll tell you what. You jump out of the holy fire, we’ll call it our mistake.” You made a deal with him, wondering if he was going to prove you all of you wrong. “Doesn’t feel good now that you’re cornered, sugar?”  
The laughing only presumed for another few seconds, all before his face turned into a dead serious stare. In the blink of an eye, you were back at the warehouse where you and the boys started, back into your own reality. And he was still there, trapped in the holy fire. "Well played, Y/N. Well played. You always were too smart for your own good.” You raised your brow when he gave you a round of applause for connecting the dots. “Where’d you get the holy oil?”  
“Oh, you could say we pulled it out of Sam’s ass.” Dean couldn’t help himself but say, glanced over at his brother, not all at amused at his brother’s remark.  
“Where did I screw up?”  
“You didn’t.” Sam said. “But nobody gets the jump on Cas like you did.”  
“Also, it was the way you talked about Armageddon.” Dean said, having a bit of deja vu “Well, call it personal experience. Nobody gets that angry unless they’re talking about their own family.”  
“So, which one are you?” you asked, wanting to put a real name to a face. “But if I were to make a guess, I’d say you’re one of the archangels?”  
The brothers looked at you and then at him in total surprise. They thought it was a bit of a leap to be so sure that he was the archangel, but you had your reasons.  
“How are you so sure, sweetheart?” He asked you from behind the flames.  
“Well, there’s the fact that you weren’t utterly confused at my existence, and then that you called me something only another archangel has called me before. So, which one are you? Grumpy, Sneezy or Douchey?”  
He was hesitant to give you all his true name, but considering he couldn’t run anymore, “Gabriel. They call me Gabriel.”  
“Wait. You’re telling us you’re the archangel, Gabriel?” Dean found yourself being thrown through a loop at seeing another one of them in the flesh. “Aren’t you supposed to be Heaven’s messenger boy? The famous angel also who told the Virgin Mary she was expecting?”  
“I’m impressed, Y/N.” Gabriel seemed that he felt comfortable keeping his old persona up once left time to make a joke, your lips stretched into a slight frown at how he was trying to deflect from the conversation. “Although it was me who let old sentiments get in the way and lead you to this.”  
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You said as you crossed your arms over your chest, not letting his remarks against what you were bother you. “So, tell me this. How does an archangel become a trickster?”  
“Call it my own private witness protection program.” Gabriel answered you, “I skipped out of Heaven, got a face transplant, carved out my own little corner out of the world…till you and your two muscle heads screwed it up.”  
“And what did Daddy say when you ran off and joined the pagans?” Dean asked.  
“Daddy doesn’t say anything about anything.” Gabriel responded with a bit of snark in his tone.  
“Then what happened?” Sam asked. “Why’d you ditch?”  
“Well, do you blame him?” Dean glanced over at his little brother, “I mean, his brothers are heavyweight douche-nozzles.”  
“Shut your cake hole. You don’t know anything about my family.” Gabriel snapped at the older Winchester, making it seem you hit a very sensitive nerve in the angel from his response. “I loved my father, my brothers—loved them. But watching them turn on each other? Tear at each other’s throats? I couldn’t bear it, okay?! So I left. And now it’s happening all over again.”  
“Then help us stop it.” You said with a hardening tone.  
Gabriel looked over at you, and slowly, you could see the ends of his lips stretched into a small smile. He stared at you with the type of expression that seemed half sad and half nostalgic. “You always were the forever hopeful. But, It can’t be stopped.”  
“You want to see the end of the world?” Dean questioned the angel.  
“I want it to be over! I have to sit back and watch my brothers kill each other, thanks to you two! Heaven, Hell—I don’t care who wins!” Gabriel argued with the three of you, “I just want it to be over!”  
“Well, it doesn’t have to be like that.” Sam said, trying to reason with him once more. “There has to be some way to—to pull the plug.”  
Gabriel responded with a laugh as he shook his head at how the three of you were still choosing to remain ignorant on this subject he knew too well about. “Oh, you do not know my family. What you guys call the apocalypse I used to call Sunday dinner. That’s why there’s no stopping this—because this isn’t about war. It’s about two brothers that loved each other and betrayed each other. You think you’d be able to relate.”  
He presumed the dots would start connecting in the boys’ brains, but all he was greeted with was a few very confused looks. “You sorry sons of bitches. Why do you think you two are the vessels? Think about it. Michael—the big brother, loyal to an absent father.And Lucifer—the little brother, rebellious of Daddy’s plan. You were born to this, boys. It’s your destiny! It was always you! As it is in Heaven, so it must be on earth. One brother has to kill the other.”  
Dean remained silent for a moment, and like his brother, “And what exactly are you saying?”  
"Why do you think I’ve always taken an interest in you two? Because from the moment Dad flipped on the lights around here, we knew it was all gonna end with you.” Gabriel said, laying down the truth nobody had been wanting to hear. “You three still have no idea of how this started, do you?”  
“Oh, we know okay? I already got the big speech from Lucifer of how daddy didn’t love him- I don’t need to hear it again.” Dean found himself talking.  
“Well, I’m gonna tell it again!” Gabriel stopped Dean, “Because clearly he left out some things.”  
You and the brothers shared the same expression of confusion before Gabriel started talking again.  
“Cas told you about The tale of Diomhair didn’t he?”  
“The hidden thing that even God can’t dust? Yeah, he did. Also, right, that Y/N is the Diomhair?” Sam replied.  
“Don’t say it with such disbelief Sammy boy, seeing as it’s completely true.” Gabriel’s words were heard loud and clear by the three of you but there was still problem in comprehension.  
“Wait a minute,” Dean found himself chuckling slightly, “You’re saying that even God with the capital G can’t touch our little old Y/N over here?”  
“Don’t be stupid.” Gabriel rolled his eyes at him, “He’s God. He made the whole universe and you think he’s incapable of killing a human? Use your brains, chuckleheads. If you were God, with all the power of the universe, who would be the one person you still couldn’t dare kill?”  
There was a heavy silence that surrounded the place as the three of you thought over Gabriel’s little riddle. A moment passed before all the dots connected in your head. All the power in the world and still, the one you wouldn’t hurt.  
“His own.” You muttered as the answer dawned over you. You realised the eyes of the brothers lingering over you as they heard you talk. There was an inexplainable expression on your face, the kind they had never seen before. “You could have all the power in the world… but you wouldn’t hurt your own.”  
“Ding ding ding.” Gabriel verified your answer in a rather playful way, while your universe had completely shifted. “See, that’s what I don’t like about stories… the more they travel, the more they distort. He can’t kill her cause he would never want to. After all, who hurts their own daughter.”  
“Hold up, Daughter?!” Dean repeated the words with disbelief.  
“Yes, dead brain, daughter. I’m assuming you know how in the Bible it says that God made man in his own image? What- you think it’s talking about you? That’s about her. You’re plan B, asshats.”  
“We were a happy family before you humans came into picture. And one day out of nowhere, Dad decided that he’s done playing with angels so he’ll make something different. He had learned from his mistakes after he created us and said he’s going to make a human, in his image. And we went with it, so he spent years and years, handcrafting the first human ever. You could understand how big of a deal it was, for someone who can just click people in and out of existence.  
And then, he let us meet her. The archangels got to meet the first human, Ishika— and she was perfect. Dad loved her like his own daughter, and the four of us, well, we had a new friend to play with. Lucifer was the one most fond of her… they were basically inseparable. But with time, he felt the need to make more. More humans and a whole world full of them. While Ishika was happy with the thought of being with people more like her, Lucifer wasn’t as convinced. He despised the thought of having to share her with more than the three of us. So, as Dad tried making more humans, Lucifer started sabotaging the whole thing, you know, Lilith, Eve, the whole bravado. What started as a petty tantrum turned to a full rebellion… with him leading angels to openly defy Dad, against the humans. We just wanted it to end… and so did God. You never wonder why didn’t Dad just kill Lucifer instead of banishing him to hell?  
Lucifer knew that He was angry, and He can be terrifying when angry. So, he made Ishika his anchor, bonded his soul to the one person Dad would never hurt. All this time, Dad hid her away from everyone and everything, kept her his own little secret… until he left. And you were alone, ready for the taking. The angels found this as a chance to sneak you out and into here. They needed you here, on Earth for you to be able to open Lucifer’s cage. Lucifer has been waiting for this moment since forever, ad he is not going to back down. Michael and Lucifer will fight, no one can stop it.”  
Maybe it was a bit selfish of you to pretend at what you were hearing had been some lie that people were telling you to mess with your head. Over your past several years it’s been like that. Sometimes it was hard to tell the difference between the truth and a lie. And all though you knew that what Gabriel was saying had to be the truth, you still remained stubborn at changing your mind. “No,” You shook your head. “That’s not gonna happen.”  
“I’m sorry, Y/N. But it is.” Gabriel was trying to be nice, “Guys, I wish this were a TV show. Easy answers, endings wrapped up in a bow. But this is real. And it’s gonna end bloody for all of us. That’s just how it’s got to be.” Your continued response was silence as the boys shared an uneasy stare to one another. All of you were sinking down the rabbit hole of the realization that this fight wasn’t going to end in a victorious win like before. “So, guys…now what? Stare at each other for the rest of eternity?”  
“Well, first of all, you’re gonna bring Cas back from wherever you stashed him.” Dean said, switching the conversation to more important matters. “Or we’re gonna dunk you in some holy oil and deep-fry ourselves an archangel.”  
Gabriel didn’t seem happy at the threat, but from the looks on your faces, there was no denying all of you would keep to your promise. You watched as he lifted his arm, and with the snap of his fingers, Cas reappeared right behind you. You looked over your shoulder slightly to see that the angel was back, he was still a little bruised, but he was alive. “Cas, you okay?” Sam asked him with concern.  
“And by the way, how’s the search for Daddy going, boys?” Gabriel curiously asked. “Let me guess. Awful.”  
“Okay, we’re out of here.” Dean said as he began taking a few steps back. “Let’s go.”  
You turned around in your spot and headed for the entrance first, wanting out of here more than anything. All though you might have met another archangel with a bit of history, he was the same, wanting nothing but the same results as everyone else. “Okay. Hey, guys? So—So, what? Huh?” Gabriel called out to the four of you, expecting help from the position you were leaving him in with the fire still burning. “You’re just gonn—You’re gonna leave me here forever?”  
“Oh, what? You’re telling me you don’t like being trapped? Don’t worry, we won’t. 'Cause we don’t screw with people the way you do.” Dean called out to the archangel, now standing at the doorway, you had to shout for him to hear you.  
“And by the way…” you turned to face Gabriel, talking loudly from the distance, “this isn’t about some prize fight between your brothers or some destiny that can’t be stopped! This is about you being too afraid to stand up to your family! Suck it up, buttercup and grow a pair!” You let out a breath when you found yourself becoming overwhelmed with anger at how he was reacting. But you were going to keep your promise at setting him free. You saw there was a fire alarm, you reached up and switched down the lever for the sprinklers above to switch on, putting out the fire. "Don’t say I never did anything for you. And if you value your life, never call me Ishika again.”  
You headed out of the warehouse and to the Impala that was parked exactly where you had left it when you arrived. No time seemed to have passed in the real world after being away in the hell that you were thrown into. The boys followed behind as Cas quietly trailed, seeming a bit unsure of how he should handle leaving one of his own brothers behind. Dean fetched out his keys from his pocket as Sam headed for the passenger side of the car. While you wanted to forget everything that happened, Sam was being a thinker, like how he always was after rough hunts.  
“All that stuff he was spouting in there—you think he was telling the truth?” Sam asked.  
“I think he believes it.” Dean said, heading for the driver’s side. He started getting the key into the lock,“I’ll tell you one thing. Right about now, I wish I was back on a TV show.”  
Sam chuckled at the thought of being thrown back into the torture, but despite that, he agreed with his older brother. “Yeah. Me, too.”  
“Why not? The story sounds a bit too much like TV shows to me.” You muttered from the backseat and the brothers seemed to understand your frustration.


	19. Abandon All Hope part 1

“Do you have eyes on him yet?” You sat on the hood of the Impala with one hand resting against the still warm metal as the other cradled your cell phone. Over the past few days you and the boys have been tracking down the new lead on the colt, It seemed this Crowley was more than just some right-hand man to Lilith, he was quite high up in the ranks of Hell. “He’s a little shorter than you, British accent. Wears a black suit and a grayish black tie.”  
On the other line was Cas, who had been trailing behind the demon since early this morning after you managed to pin down Crowley’s exact location. You set the bait for a crossroads deal the other night with a hidden devil’s trap, and an hour later, she confessed about where her other boss was going to be. Crowley had a very important banker he wanted to personally visit, but since the man was having a bit of cold feet of commitment, he was allowed to think it over before meeting again. But a pretty face could make men do just about anything. The demon told you she was already sure the man was going to say yes. But instead of her, Crowley was going to do the personal honors of sealing the deal.   
“Got him.” Cas answered you. “The demon Crowley is making a deal. Even as we speak, it’s…going…down.”  
“‘Going down’?” You repeated after him, finding his wording a little more amusing “Okay, buddy. Just don’t lose him.”  
“I won’t lose him.” The angel reassured you. You heard the other line grow dead for a moment and very faint sounds of shoes crunching against gravel. “I followed him. It’s not far, but…it’s layered in enochian warding magic. I can’t get in.”  
You thanked Cas for the help, telling him you would take it from here. You ended the call and shoved the phone back to your pocket.   
“What’d Cas say?” Dean asked you while leaning against the driver side door.  
“Good news.” You slipped yourself off the hood, landing on your feet as Sam turned around in his spot. Now he was staring at you, curious to see what you had to say. “We’ve got a lead on Crowley. Cas should be texting the location right about…Now.”  
You reached a hand inside your pocket again when you felt the vibrations, signaling a new text message from the angel. The boys headed for the front of the Impala as you slipped yourself into the back.  
\+ + +  
"Tell me again why I agreed to this?” You muttered the question underneath your breath as you kicked your feet out from the passenger side of the car. You straightened out your dress one more time, “It’s freezing outside. And I look like a prostitute.”  
“Yes. But an expensive prostitute.” Jo said, trying to be helpful as she stepped out from the driver’s side car and slammed it shut behind her. You gave her a look to show you weren’t even the slightest bit amused at her humour.  
Both of you were dressed as if you were spending a night on the town, little black dresses that barely covered any skin and heels to match. Your hand brushed against the demon knife that was hidden in the holster strapped to your inner thigh to make sure it was safely hidden by your dress.   
You gave the woman another dirty look before you followed behind, both of you making the small walk to the house that was just up the street. Cas had taken a sweep of the place to give all of you a rough idea of the set up, while he could just pop himself to the front door, you were left standing in front of a very tall gate. Taking one peek up, you noticed there was a security camera pointed directly at the both of you. Jo watched as you uncrossed your arms to press the intercom to get someone’s attention.  
“Hello?”  
You heard a voice come from the other side and it sounds American. It seemed Crowley didn’t like to be bothered with unwelcome guests. “Hello? My friend’s car broke down.” You explained to the man, making sure your voice was timid as you cross your arms back over your chest. “We—We need some help.”  
“I’ll be down in a minute.” The man said.  
You step away from the intercom as you turned around so your back was facing the security camera, giving you a chance to roll your eyes at how stupid this plan was. Yet a second later you were following behind Jo when the gate opened, giving you access to the property. The both of you walked slowly up the stone path, seeming a bit cautious when you watched two men head down the way you were coming, with a smile that didn’t make you feel their intentions weren’t to help a few people stranded in the middle of the night.  
“Evening, pretty ladies.” The first man greeted the both of you with a warm tone, you barely managed to return a faction of a smile. “Get yourselves in on here.”  
“Uh,” Jo looked over at you with an uneasy look at the offer that seemed more like a red flag than a gesture of help. She glanced back over at the man as she responded with a nervous chuckle. “We just need to make a phone call.”  
“You don’t need anyone, baby.” The man said with a smoothness in his voice, He glanced over at his partner for a brief second before glancing over at you and Jo. “We’re the only help you two will never need.”  
“You know what?” You gave both of them men an uneasy smile as you pointed a finger over your shoulder, gesturing to the gate as you took one step back. You gave Jo a look as you nervously swallowed. “I think we should just wait in the car. My cell phone’s in there, anyway. I can just walk around until I find a signal.”  
You turned around on your heels, the only thought that is on your mind is getting the hell out of here. At least, you let the man and the partner think. His eyes turn black as he reached out a hand to grab your arm and try to yank you backwards. “We said, get your asses in here.”  
A scoff escaped your mouth at how he was trying to take advantage of you, but before he could do anything stupid, a hand slipped underneath your dress to fetch out the demon knife as you turn back around to face him. You take the demon by surprise when you easily stab him in the chest, a hue of orange ignites in his body before you watch as he drops to the ground. His partner suddenly knows what’s going on, and when he tried to pin down Jo before she could run, the woman easily shook herself loose before pinning him to the ground. You take the chance to shove the knife into the demon’s neck and pull it out, letting him join his partner to the concrete.   
“Nice work, ladies.”  
You looked over your shoulder to see it was the boys, Dean’s holding a duffel bag as Sam tossed you a pile of folded clothes. Mumbling a thank you, Jo took the duffel bag so she could pull out a pair of wire cutters. You kick off the heels, letting your bare feet touch the grass you moved onto so you could slip your jeans on and quickly change before joining the boys as Jo went her separate ways to cut the power. You left the dress and heels where they were. The boys were a bit baffled at your plan, but you got dressed in under thirty seconds as you were getting on your shoes at the minute mark. Changing fast was a skill was something that you actually found useful after graduating.  
You and the boys snuck inside the house a minute before the power cut off, it gave you a chance to make a hidden devil’s trap. You wandered down the dark hallway as the boys got ready, you made your arrival noticeable by tipping over an expensive and old looking vase with the tip of your finger. You heard footsteps begin to trail across the wooden floors as you watched a shadow cross across the walls, the person approaching you was the exact same man you were hoping to see. A smile spread across your lips as you pointed the demon blade at him, deciding to be friendly with him.  
“It’s Crowley, right?”  
“So…Nancy Drew and the Hardy boys finally found me. Took you long enough.” Crowley spoke with a casual tone to the three of you, and with the same accent you remembered him having. He began walking forward to you with his hands placed in his pockets, getting himself closer to stepping into the devil’s trap. You swallowed when the demon stopped in his tracks, finding something a bit off. He looked over to the left of him to see the broken vase, but that wasn’t the only thing you had messed with. Crowley noticed the rug in front of him was bunched up slightly. You glanced over at the boys when he decided to crouch down and flip over the rug, finding the trap. But it seemed he wasn’t pissed about the lack of trust. “Do you have any idea how much this rug costs? And that vase was a lovely gift. I heard better things about you, Y/N.”  
Before you realized what was happening, the blade slipped out of your fingers when you felt someone attack you from behind and pinned you into place. The demon walked over to a table and opened up the drawer, casually pulling out the colt and lifted it up so you could inspect it. “This is it, right? This is what it’s all about.” Crowley glanced over at the three of you to see the astonishment on your faces, all these months of hunting it down, and he held it like he was ready to shoot. It didn’t help that he decided to point the gun at the oldest Winchester with his finger on the trigger. But he seemed to have been in a helpful mood tonight. Crowley shot off three rounds in the matter of seconds, not at you or the boys, but the demons that were holding you. You step forward when you heard the body drop to the ground. While you were baffled at what happened, Crowley nodded his head at you. “We need to talk. Privately.”  
You and the boys exchanged an uneasy look, still not sure what had just unfolded, but you listened to the demon as you followed behind first. The four of you walked down the hall until you stepped into another room, and from the interior, it must have been his office with a fire going to keep his cold heart warm on this chilly evening. “What the hell is this?” Dean asked the demon as he trailed close behind you.  
“Do you know how deep I could have buried this thing?” Crowley answered the hunter’s question with another. He stopped at his desk, and with a simple wave of the arm, he slammed the door shut. “There’s no reason you or anyone should know this even exists at all. Except that I told you.”  
You furrowed your brow from the demon’s statement, “You told us?”  
“Rumors, innuendo…send out on the grapevine.” Crowley explained to the three of you.  
“Why? Why tell us anything?” You asked the demon.   
“I know you’d like nothing more than to take this thing to Lucifer and empty it into his face.”  
“Uh-huh. Okay.” Dean said. He gave the demon a chance to tell you his motivation behind helping all of you. “And why exactly would you want the devil dead?”  
“It’s called survival.” Crowley told. You watched as the demon placed down the gun on the desk and stepped away. “Y/N may be Lucifer’s shiny toy, but at least she was born with a set of brains. I forgot you two, at best, are functional morons.”  
“Yeah, you’re functioning…” Dean tried his hardest to throw an insult back at the demon, but he found himself fumbling for a proper response. “…Moron. Mor—”  
“Are you done? Wouldn’t want you to kill what brain cells you’ve got left in there.” Crowley said, Dean nodded his head and allowed the demon to continue. “Lucifer isn’t a demon, remember? He’s an angel—an angel famous for his hatred of humankind. To him, you’re just…filthy bags of pus.” Crowley said, “With the exception of dear, Y/N, of course.” he reached out to grab his glass full of whiskey he was previously drinking. “If that’s what the way he feels about you…what can he think about us?”  
“But he created you.” Sam said.  
“To him, we’re just servants. Cannon fodder. If Lucifer manages to exterminate humankind…we’re next.” Crowley told you the gritty details. He wandered over to the other side of the desk so he was now able to lean against the wood, and just a mere few inches from the colt. “So, help me. Huh? Let’s all go back to simpler, better times. Back to…when we could all follow our natures. I’m in sales, damn it. I didn’t ask to be apart of this monstrosity. So, what do you say? What if…” The demon put down the drink for the colt. You narrowed your eyes suspiciously at him when he handed over the gun, positioning the handle in your direction. “I give you this thing and you go kill the devil?”  
You stretched out your arm to grab the colt, but you stopped for a second, finding all of this a little too easy for your own personal comfort. You and Crowley stared at a moment, making him sense your hesitance. He pushed the gun into your hand, letting you wrap your fingers around the unfamiliar handle as he dropped his arm back to the desk. You glanced over at the boys for a brief second, all of you sharing the same amount of awkwardness from how easy this was. But there was one more problem you were facing.  
“You wouldn’t happen to know where the devil is, by chance, would you?” Sam asked the demon.  
“Thursday.” Crowley answered the man as he grabbed his drink again from the desk. “Birdies tell me he has an appointment in Carthage, Missouri.”  
You mumbled a thank you to the demon for all of this information he was feeding you, and while he was more helpful than anyone else, You pointed the barrel of the gun directly between his eyes, catching him by surprise. But it seemed the demon had the last laugh when you pulled down on the trigger, expecting a boom and for his brains to paint the walls behind him, but all you gotten was a faint click.  
“Well…” You dropped your arm to the side when you realized the chamber was empty. “That was a bit anticlimactic.”  
“Oh, yeah, right.” Crowley realized he had emptied what bullets were left to the demons. “You probably need some more ammunition.”  
You looked over at the boys to see the both of them were confused as you were. “Uh, excuse me for asking,” Dean pipped up, deciding to ask a question if this plan backfired in your face. “But aren’t you kind of signing your own death warrant? I mean, what happens to you if we go up against the devil and lose?”  
“Number one—he’s gonna wipe us all out anyway. Two—after you leave here, I go on an extended vacation to all points nowhere. And three,” Crowley listed off the reasons, and when he gotten the biggest warning of all, he raised his voice to make the point clear. “How about you don’t miss?! Okay?! Morons!”  
Crowley threw the bundle of ammunition to where Dean was standing, catching the man off guard, but he was quick enough to catch it. The older Winchester fumbled to opening up the leather pouch to see if it was the real deal, and it sure was, there was at least a few dozen bullets at your disposal. When you looked back, Crowley vanished into thin air.  
\+ + +  
It wasn’t the end of the world just yet, but you were going to party like it was. Because for you, it probably was. You, the boys and Jo headed back to Bobby’s after a successful job well done. It was strange to see the infamous colt finally after all this time, but you were feeling more hopeful than you had been in a long time.   
You leaned back in your seat as you stretched out your legs while you sat at the cramped table in the middle of Bobby’s kitchen. Cas sat to your left, Jo was to your right as Ellen sat on the opposite to where the angel was. The Harvelle women were nothing short of amazed to see that angels were real, and while almost all of them were dicks, there was one that you called a friend. Cas and the boys had already told the Harvelles and Bobby about everything that had happened in the past few months, including that, right, you were God’s daughter.   
“Well, Ishika you said?” Bobby spoke, repeating the name Cas gave him, “Well, it does mean God’s daughter, you know. Indian word.”   
“So, what, we should call you Ishika now?” Jo giggled, a little drunk but still in her senses. You answered her in a hard no, knowing how much you hated hearing that name.   
The topic was discussed for a while at the table before you insisted, to quote, ‘screw god’ and brought in multiple more bottles of liquor.   
The table was filled with empty shot glasses, along with six shots filled and ready to go. You and Jo watched as Ellen took her skills of running a bar for a few decades to the test. She grabbed another shot from the table, making that her fifth one in a row, and with ease, downed it with only a wince before flipping it so it was upside down.  
“Oh my God.” You let out a slight giggle as you reached up to press the bottle of the beer you were drinking to your lips. You were no means a light weight, but with the celebritorious atmosphere surrounding you, it made your attitude was coming off carefree and happy. “Who knew your mom was such a badass drinker, Jo.”  
“Oh, that’s nothing. No hunter could touch her even if they tried.” Jo said. You raised your brow as a smile began to spread across your face again. She looked at the angel sitting in front of her. “Alright, big boy. Let’s go.”  
Cas was still learning about what it means to be a human, and while he had only one drink in his entire lifetime, he could follow example pretty well. You watched as the angel grabbed the first shot from the table and downed it, then the other…and the other…all before the five shot glasses were turned upside down. You felt your mouth part open slightly in surprise at how he was able to do that with little to no reaction, and while you asked him how he felt, it seemed he didn’t have such a high tolerance for alcohol as you thought. "I think I’m starting to feel something.“ He said.  
You let another smile spread across your lips behind the beer bottle that you pressed against your skin, feeling the once chilled glass now feel warm against your skin. You shook the bottle slightly to feel that it was empty, meaning you needed another round, and making it only your third for the night. Pushing yourself out of your seat, you headed for the fridge and fished out one bottle for yourself as you placed it on the counter.   
You left the ladies and Cas alone for a moment as you walked into the library where the brothers had been quietly sipping their own beers and discussing the plan for tomorrow. You gave the both of them a smile as you stood between the both of them, curious to see what they were working on. Sam acknowledged your presence with a nod before continuing on with the conversation he was previously having with his brother.  
“It’s got to be a trap, right?”  
Sam’s concern was no laughing matter, but it didn’t stop the older Winchester from letting out a few chuckles at the irony. “Sam Winchester having trust issues with a demon.” Dean said. “Well, better late than never.”  
“Yeah, and thank you again for the continued support.” Sam said with his own hint of sarcasm.  
“You’re welcome.” Dean replied. “And, you know, trap or no trap, we got a snowball’s chance, we got to take it, right?”  
You shrugged your shoulders, “Yeah, I guess.”  
“Besides, I’m not sure it is a trap. Check it out. Carthage is lit up like a Christmas tree with revelation omens. And look at this.” Dean laid out a map to show off different spots he marked off, along with bible passages that Bobby had found with Ellen. You grabbed a few pieces of paper after setting your beer down, curious to see what he found. “There’s been six missing persons reported in town since Sunday. I think the devil’s there.”  
You flipped through the reports as you examined the omens for a brief moment. “Okay.” You said, a quiet breath falling out from your mouth when you felt another pang of realization hitting you. “Looks like things are shaping up our way.”  
“Look, when you think about it…I mean, what Crowley said about Sam,” Dean grabbed his own beer from the desk for a brief moment to hold it. “He can’t come with.”  
“No.” Sam immediately protested. “That’s not fair!”  
“I’d rather be safe than sorry. If I go against Satan and screw the pooch…okay. We’ve got a game piece that, we can take. But if you’re there…then we are handing Lucifer exactly everything he wants.” Dean said “And we’re handing the Devil’s vessel right over to him on a silver platter. That’s not smart.”  
“Since when have we ever done anything smart?” the younger winchester questioned him.  
“I’m serious.” Dean warned.  
“So am I.” You spoke up between them, which you rarely did but maybe the alcohol was getting to you. “you realize I’m the reason why Satan himself is roaming around the earth, right? Haven’t you two idiots learn a damn thing over the past few months? You guys don’t work without each other…If we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do it together.”  
Dean contemplated your plan, and while he was against it, he was starting to change his mind when you and his little brother stared at him with that stupid puppy dog stare. “That’s a stupid friggin’ idea…But okay.”  
“Hallelujah! We got a breakthrough.” You slapped your beer to the desk,   
"Everybody, get in here!” Bobby called out to everyone, breaking all of you from your previous activities. You forced yourself to see what was going on as the rest of the gang trailed behind. You headed into the living room to see that Bobby had his manual camera setup. “It’s time for the lineup. Usual suspects, in the corner.”  
“Oh, come on, Bobby.” Ellen complained. “Nobody wants their picture taken.”  
“Shut up. You’re drinking my beer.” Bobby said. He positioned the camera exactly how he wanted, and while the boys and Harvelles took places to be clicked, you walked over towards Bobby who finished up setting the camera.  
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asked you, almost grasping what you were doing.  
“Well, someone needs to take the picture, right?” you answered with a smile but he saw right through it. Talk about issues, you didn’t want to ruin their picture by being in it. Sure you’d like to, but those guys were a family and honestly you didn’t think you’d deserved it.  
“Don’t be stupid young lady, alright? I didn’t waste all those hours teaching you how to hunt for this day.” He answered as he grabbed you by your hand wheeled you back where the others stood, “Besides, the camera has a timer you know.”  
You joined the boys as they made space for you right in between them, the Harvelle women took your side, making Cas stand on Sam’s left. Bobby rolled himself backwards so he was in the front. “Anyway, I’m gonna need something to remember your sorry asses by.”  
“Ha! Always good to have an optimist around.” Ellen joked with the man.  
“Bobby’s right. Tomorrow we hunt the devil.” Cas said, reminding you of the challenge you were up against. “This is our last night on earth.”  
You could feel your smile falter at the words the angel had spoken, and how real they were. There could be a chance the Harvelle women could suffer along with Dean, Sam could get himself exactly where Lucifer wanted him. You slowly drifted your gaze to the camera and forced yourself to smile when you heard the timer go off.  
After the picture, the party quieted down a bit. As much as everyone was living up the possible last day, no one wanted to lose sight on the important task so thought it would be better to not wear themselves out too much. While everyone had retreated to their own corners, you decided to spend some moments by yourself so you picked up a couple beers and walked out to the compound. You hopped up on the engine of one of the cars parked there and opened a beer, taking in the peace that the clear sky in front of you brought. A couple more silent moments passed before you heard the familiar sound of steps coming towards you. You didn’t have to see who it was, cause you just knew it was him.  
“You’ve got to stop coming up on me like this.” You said, raising your beer to take another sip, not taking your eyes off the stars.  
“Then stop sneaking away to get drunk like this.” Dean chuckled as he walked to your side. A small laugh left your lips before you handed him the other beer that he graciously accepted. “So, last day alive… probably. Got anything you’d like to strike off the bucket list?”  
“Oh Dean, I’ve heard your -last day on earth- speech before, you can do better.” You snorted.  
He nodded slightly before opening his bottle and taking a long sip from it. “It’s different for you though, right. Cause even if we succeed in killing Lucifer, we might still end up killing you. And Y/N, really, if we could find any other way I—”  
“Don’t sweat it.” You cut him off before he could ramble off on how he wishes there was another way that didn’t involve you dying. But, you had made piece with it. If this was how it was going to be, you weren’t gonna give anyone the satisfaction, especially Lucifer. “There’s far worse ways to die anyway.”  
Dean smiled at your attempt of trying to be positive with everything that was going. “For what its worth, I just wanted you to know that you’re… good.”  
You turned your head towards him and raised an eyebrow at his rather odd choice of words. “I’m… good?” at this point you were genuinely confused at what he was trying to say.   
Dean quickly darted his eyes away from you awkwardly fumbling at his words. “Yeah, Just… I meant. Look, I know you keep doubting yourself, even if you don’t let it show but… I just wanted to say that, don’t. You’re good. You’re great and even one of the best people I know. And like, you know, you’re really great, Y/N.”  
“Is this…” at this point you were completely facing him and he was still trying to avoid eye contact, “Is this like your… indirect… Winchester way of saying that you have a crush on me?”  
“Crush?” he instantly scoffed at you, “What are we, twelve?”. He took another quick sip of his beer as you still stared at him, waiting for an answer. You were really milking the moment. “I just meant like, if situations were different you know. With a little less apocalypse and devil…”  
You were trying your hardest to not laugh at him. And not because you thought it was funny but because it was rare to see that adorable look he had on his face right now. “Well, for what it’s worth,” you spoke in a softer tone, this time looking into his eyes and him looking back at you, “I think I would’ve liked that.”   
A minute passed and you both stood still in your place, not being able to take your eyes off of each other. But the moment soon passed and Dean raised his beer, “To the ifs and maybes.” He spoke softly and a small smile crept up on your face as you raised yours too, clinking it lightly with his before bringing it to your lips.


	20. Abandon All Hope part 2

Today was the day: doomsday. You sat in the backseat with the brothers for the drive that took almost all morning with the Harvelle women riding behind you as Cas decided to hitch a ride with them. Nobody said much of anything, except to make sure you had everything you needed to face an impossible amount of demons and their creator.  
You weren’t scared to see what might unravel in the next upcoming hours. But you weren’t restless with excitement at the thought of facing off with the devil, and watching as one of the Winchesters put a bullet in his head. You were just…handling the situation best as you could, trying the pessimistic at bay and the optimism of what might be from keeping your hopes up that this was all going to end with the devil being dead and the world would be safe.   
Dean told you and his brother to see if there was any service around here after he couldn’t find any on his phone. Which wasn’t a good sign for all of you. The result had been to roll down your window and try every which way to see if you could have at least find a single bar. But there was nothing. You sat back in your seat and shut your phone before it could get damaged from the drizzle of rain that was coming down.  
“Are you guys getting a signal?”  
“No, nothin’.” Dean answered you. “Nice and spooky.”  
Dean adjusted his handling of the phone so it was now placed back in his pocket, his free arm waved for the Harvelle women to pass through as he moved the Impala to the curb. You watched as Ellen drove a bit further until her truck was right next to the Impala. “Place seem a little empty to you?” She asked, you could hear the worry starting to settle in her voice.  
“Sam and I are gonna go check out the PD.” Dean explained the situation to the women and CAs, who had been quietly sitting in the backseat for the entire car ride. You grabbed the duffel bag you had switched out from your clothes last night. Before you opened up the backseat door to get out, you patted around in your pocket, wanting to make sure you felt the outline of the demon knife. The boys agreed on keeping the colt if you could take the knife. “You and Y/N stay here—see if you can find anybody.”  
You told the boys to be careful. You let out a sigh as you walked to the sidewalk, allowing Ellen to park as the Impala drove off into the distance, and soon, disappearing from sight. You tighten your grip on the bag as you looked over at the car to see Ellen turned the key to shut off the engine as Jo wasted no time in getting herself out to join you. She looked around for a brief moment to see if she could find anyone herself, but her gaze spotted Cas, who was still patiently sitting in the backseat, and seeming not in a rush to get out.   
“Hey.” Jo leaned forward and tapped her knuckles against the backseat window to get the angel’s attention. “Ever heard of a door handle?”  
“Of course I have.” You turned your head away from the car to see that Cas was standing in front of you and the younger woman. You rolled your eyes from his ability to jump wherever he wanted. something off about how Cas was looking around town as his eyes squinted slightly. You asked him what was wrong out of concern. “This town’s not empty. Reapers.”  
“‘Reapers’?” You repeated after him. “As in one than one?”  
“They only gather like this at times of great catastrophe—Chicago fire, San Francisco quake…Pompeii.” Cas explained to the three of you. You let out a slow breath, “Excuse me. I need to find out why they’re here.”  
You watched as The angel wandered all the way across to an old movie theatre after spotting something in the window. You squinted your eyes to see there looked to be an older man dressed in a black trench coat and pale white eyes that were haunting. Seeing him brought a sense of warning to you. As you directed your gaze to Cas, you had the sudden urge to capture his attention, but when you looked down at the street, he was gone.  
\+ + +  
You tore the place apart best as you could, but in the ten minutes since you arrived, there was not a single living soul in sight that you could find. You and the Harvelle’s decided it’d be best to head to the station to see how the boys were coming along. The entire car ride to the station had left you antsy, you were hoping that the brothers would have Cas at their side, but when they were waiting on the sidewalk with only themselves and the Impala parked, you could feel your stomach drop. Something bad was happening here, and your instincts were telling you the angel had landed himself in harm’s way without even realizing it.  
“Station’s empty.” Dean said.  
“So is everything else. By the way,” You wrapped your fingers around the cold glass to ask them a very important question that wouldn’t leave your mind, “Have you seen Cas?”  
“What?” Sam asked you, “He was with you.”  
Ellen shook her head, “Nope. He went after the reapers.”  
“Reapers? He saw reapers?” Sam questioned all of you. You watched as his expression began to change into a serious one “Where?”  
“Well, kind of…” Jo tried to answer the younger man, “Everywhere.”  
Everybody decided it’d be best if you started on this adventure on foot to save the precious gas you had just in case you needed to make a quick getaway. You followed behind the group with your bag still hanging over your shoulder, but with a fully loaded shotgun in your hand.   
“Well, this is great.” Dean spoke up, breaking the silence that had fallen between the five of you. “We’ve been in town for twenty minutes and we’ve already lost the angel up our sleeve.”  
“You think, uh,” You looked over at the younger Winchester when he decided to try and give a possible theory to what happened to the angel. “You think Lucifer got to him?”  
“I don’t know what else to think.” Dean admitted underneath his breath.  
You found yourself beginning to trail behind on the group, your thoughts blocking your concentration on the situation at hand, as the pessimistic attitude you’d been trying to push away since you left this morning were beginning to become too bearable to pin down. You tighten your grip on the shotgun you were holding as you slightly turned your head, just a natural reaction you had grown accustomed to for hunting. You honestly thought this place was abandoned without a human soul here. While you were right about that, you might have forgotten about the ones with a soul black as their eyes.  
You turned your head to the side when you saw her, Meg. Jo had met the demon awhile back when she first started hunting on her own. It was in the form of Sam after she decided to possess the poor man and take you on her little adventure of slaughtering hunters for the fun of it. Meg felt her smile grow even more at your precious reaction, but it seemed the rest of the group didn’t realize she was gracing her presence, so she decided to make it known by making a vocal announcement.  
“There you are.” Meg said with a cheery voice. She wasn’t the least bit afraid when she saw four guns loaded with rock salt pointing her way. “You shouldn’t have come here, boys. But I have to say, you’re making my job a hell of a lot easier.“  
“Yeah?” Dean wasn’t afraid of the demon. He wasted not a single second to pull out the colt and pointed the barrel at the woman, his finger on the trigger. “Well, I could say the same thing for you.”  
"Didn’t come here alone, Dean-o.” Meg said. You didn’t need to hear the spine-chilling growl to realize the demon had brought a weapon that was far superior to a little gun. You nervously swallowed as you watched one of the hounds closest to Meg put one paw out in front of him, everyone could only see an invisible force make a splash in a small puddle. You, however, saw every little detail of the beasts, from their sharp claws and teeth they showed off as they snarled at you. You didn’t need any lore books to verify that those were hell hounds, and apparently you could see them while others couldn’t. There was at least ten, “Hell hounds. I know how much they’re your favourite, Dean.”  
“Eat dirt and die, bitch.” He hissed at her.  
“Come on. Don’t be like that.” Meg said. She pretended to be hurt “Our father wants to see her.”  
“I think she’ll pass.” Sam said, jumping to your defense. “Thanks.”  
“Your call. I’m just doing what I’m told. My father said he wanted Y/N alive. But he didn’t say anything about getting a few scratches on that pretty face of hers. So, what is it gonna be?” Meg asked as her gaze lingered over to you to make the final decision. “You can make this easy on everyone. Or you can make it really, really hard.”  
You took a moment evaluate where they could be; one was still lingering next to Meg, your gaze followed another that was starting to get ready at pounce at you before going for Sam. You shifted your sight just quick enough to realize there was one for Ellen and Jo. You slowly looked over at the man to see that he had been following your eye move. With the simple nod of the head, you thought it wouldn’t hurt to take your chances at fighting them.  
“When have you known us to ever make anything easy?”  
Dean wasted not a single second when he drew the colt away from the demon to point it at the hound. You heard the shot go off, wounding the animal just enough for it to be taken down, but that still meant you had nine other of his friends nipping at your heels. All of you didn’t waste a second before you were running for your life. You heard the vicious barking come from behind you, and it was getting closer than you wanted. Taking a second to inspect the situation, you noticed one of the hounds was going for the Harvelle women as another chased after Sam, the last one was dead set on you. As he reached up one of his claws to dig it into your skin, you aimed the shotgun and pulled the trigger, wounding the hound just enough for it to lag. You tried your hardest to start running faster, but it seemed in that moment, your mind decided to stroll down memory lane.  
You felt the scream that had been building up in your throat suddenly come right now when you felt yourself being thrown to the ground by an invisible force that nobody could see except you. You landed face first on the pavement, your shotgun stumbling out of your hands after the hound had nicked your leg just enough to make you fall prey to him. Everyone had been heading for a sport’s store that was just along the way, but your cry of pain had made them stop for just a second. You shouted at the top of your lungs for them to go on without you as you tried your hardest to fight off the hound before it was too late. You pulled the knife out from your pocket before the hellhound could sink his teeth into you and drag you away like a dead carcass to show it to his owner. Before either one of you could try and see who would win this fight, you heard a gunshot from the colt go off, wounding the hound.  
Dean wasn’t going to let you fall behind, while the rest of the group headed for safety, he took his chances at helping you. You quickly grabbed his awaiting hand and pulled yourself to your feet, you tried your hardest to ignore the stinging feeling in your ankle as you made it to the safe haven Sam and Ellen had found. But it seemed you weren’t out of trouble just yet. Jo had strayed away from the store when she spotted a hound coming for you. She raced forward to the two of you, and at what she thought was a safe distance, she took her shot at the hound. You looked over your shoulder to see that the hound was wounded momentarily. Your eyes widened in fear as you screamed Jo’s name on the top of her lungs to get back when you saw the animal coming for her. But it was too late.  
You watched in horror as another hound came out from nowhere, and sunk his claw into the woman’s hipbone, dragging his nails into her skin and sending her flying down to the ground. As she cried out in pain and tumbled to the pavement, You pushed Dean away from you and snatched your shotgun from the ground so you could take a shot at one of the hounds that was tempted to make a move on you as his friend was about to attack again. Ellen had witnessed everything happened. You could hear the woman shout her daughter’s name with horror as Dean raced over to help Jo. You tried your best to fight off the hounds as you took shot after shot to get them to back off. Your mind only focused on survival as you backed dangerously fast to the store, and avoiding the trail of blood that lead directly to the store as you took off your last shot before stumbling inside.  
Neither you or Sam wasted a second when you slammed the door shut and pressed your back against it, keeping the hell hounds at bay for a second as the younger Winchester reached to grab a thick metal chain. You stepped away so Sam could wrap the chains around the handle of the door and give you all a bit of safety. But it wasn’t safe here. Chaos was rising between everyone as Dean tried to gently lay down Jo to the ground and propped her against the counter as Ellen was following close behind. She tended to her bleeding daughter as you found yourself rushing forward to see how bad the damage was. You dropped yourself to your knees and tried to see how Jo was doing, but all you could see was blood. It was covering the tiled floors and Ellen’s hands. You shrugged off your jacket and quickly gave it to the woman, hopeful that it might help at least keep the wounds from draining out anymore blood if you could help it.  
“All right, okay, okay. Breathe, breathe, breathe.” Ellen told her daughter as she pressed harder against the wound. Jo tried her hardest to tell the both of you she was fine, but she was far from it. She was starting to become dizzy from the blood loss as she was sweating, all of which weren’t good signs. “Boys, need some help!”  
You pressed harder against Jo’s wound as the brothers grabbed whatever rock salt they could find, making sure to cover every single crack of this place. While you could hear the growling from outside slowly die down, their damage was still going strong in here. Ellen slowly moved your hand away, saying something about how she wanted to inspect the wound for just a second. The boys had raced straight forward when everything was done to see what was going on here. You swallowed and did what you were told, allowing your, now bloodied, hands to hover as Ellen slowly forced herself to lift her own to inspect the wound. You could feel yourself let out a sharp gasp of surprise at how deep the gashes were.  
It was bad, worse than you had anticipated. Jo’s wounds were deep enough for blood to keep gushing out. You could feel yourself instinctively pressing back down on the wound again before she could lose anymore fluids. At this moment you needed to be strong and level headed, but when you looked up at Jo, who knew how bad her wounds were, you gave her a wobbly smile, despite being on the brink of tears. You told her that everything was going to be all right. Maybe it was for her to think there was a chance at getting here alive…or for your guilty conscience for leading everyone here.  
\+ + +  
You busied yourself over the past hour to help Ellen the best you could to help find all the supplies you would need for to cover her daughter’s wounds so she wouldn’t risk the chances of getting an infection or losing any more blood. Jo was stable now after you found some ace bandages and some clean towels that were soft enough to makeshift for medical attention she desperately needed. Despite being in tremendous pain, Jo didn’t complain, she just laid against the counter with her legs outstretched as Ellen did everything she could to ease the suffering best to her ability.  
You hadn’t moved from Jo’s side since you had gotten here, and while your legs we’re starting to cramp, you felt the obligation to stay by her side and tend to any need she might have.   
Sam had been around every once in a while to see how things were going and to check on the salt lines to make sure it was in check. Dean had kept to himself since all of you were put on lockdown. He searched around the store until he found a portable radio and some batteries to make the thing work. You looked away from the women as Sam headed over to his brother so the both of them could have a private conversation about how seriously screwed all of you were. While it was good to know this plan might just work out, the concern right now was to get out of here before anyone else could get hurt.  
You were pulled from your thoughts at the faint noise of squeaking coming from the radio Dean had been tinkering with over the past few minutes. Sam wandered over when Ellen called out for a pair of hands that weren’t covered in blood. You glanced down to see that your clothes and hands were stained red, the sight of it made you feel another wave of nausea when you inhaled the deep rich copper smell. You pulled your attention away from the mess when you heard Dean speak, and even from your spot across the small store, you heard a voice that suddenly felt like music to your ears.  
“Bobby, it’s Dean. We got problems.”  
“It’s okay, boy. That’s why I’m here.” Bobby comforted the older Winchester, knowing even with his voice strained as he tried to be hard, there was no denying the fear in Dean’s voice. “Is everyone alright?”  
Dean paused for a moment when he heard the question. While you had tried to remain optimistic that things were going to be fine for the woman, Dean had seen more of this lifestyle, and he knew a bad situation when he saw one. “No.” Dean answered as he looked backed to the other side of the store, turning his back again on the four of you. He tried keeping his voice hush when he spoke the devastating news. “Uh, i-it’s—it’s Jo. Bobby, it’s pretty bad.”  
“Okay. Copy that.” Bobby replied after a second of silence of his own, “So now we figure out what we do next.”  
“Bobby,” Dean muttered the hunter’s name as he tried his hardest to tell him what happened. “Bobby, I don’t think she’s—”  
But he couldn’t do it. Dean took his finger off the button and stopped himself. He stared across the room and focused on anything with his vision starting to grow the slightest bit blurry as he tried his hardest not to break down  
“I said, ‘What do we do next,’ Dean.” Bobby said. His tone was serious as he forced the older Winchester to start focusing on the situation he was being dealt with. Dean let out a heavy breath as he bent his head down to rub his eyes from the stress. “Now…tell me what you got.” Dean told him the little progress that all of you had been making. “Before he went missing, did Cas say how many reapers?”  
“I-I don’t know. He said a lot of things, I guess.” Dean muttered with a solemn tone. “I mean, does the number matter?”  
You excused yourself from the little group when you tried to be of assistance for someone else when you heard Dean getting frustrated about how Bobby was focusing on something that seemed so little of importance, right now. You walked over to Dean and tapped the back of your hand against his arm, catching his attention. You nodded your head to the walkie-talkie to you could speak to the man. “Bobby, it’s Y/N.” You said. “The way he was looking, the number of places Cas’ eyes went, I’d say we’re talking over a dozen reapers—probably more.”  
“I don’t like the sound of that.” Bobby said.  
“Nobody like the sound of that, Bobby.” Dean told the man. “But what—what does that sound like?”  
“It sounds like death, kids.” Bobby answered him. You furrowed your brow as you locked eyes with the man standing in front of you. “I think Satan’s in town to work a ritual. I think he’s planning to unleash Death.”  
“You mean, like,” Dean tried wrapping his head at what he was being told. “This dude and taxes are the only sure thing?”  
“As in Death—the horseman, the pale rider in the flesh.” Bobby said, being more specific.  
You let out a quiet sigh from what you were hearing as you turned your head slightly to look at Jo from the corner of your eye. “'Unleash’? I mean, h-hasn’t death been tromping all over the place?” Dean asked. “I mean, hell, I’ve died several times ourselves.”  
“Not this guy. This is—this is the Angel of Death, big daddy reaper. They keep this guy chained in a box six hundred feet under. Last time they hauled him up, Noah was building a boat.” Bobby explained the situation to you and Dean. You heard him pause for a moment, as if he was thinking to himself. “That’s why the place is crawling with reapers. They’re waiting on the big boss to show up.”  
As if things couldn’t have gotten any worse. You placed the back of your hand against your forehead as you shifted around slightly in your spot, turning your back on everyone so you could wrap your mind around what the hell was going on. You tilted your head up slightly as your eyes slowly shifted upwards to the ceiling. This…this was beginning to become too much for you to handle. You inhaled a deep breath breath through your mouth, trying your hardest to compose yourself. Dean tried lifting up the mood by asking the other hunter if he had any good news to spare.  
“Well, in a manner of speaking. I’ve been researching Carthage since you’ve been gone, trying to suss out what the Devil might want there. What you just said drops the last piece of the puzzle in place.” Bobby explained to the both of you. You turned around in your spot to hear what the man had to say after you gotten your emotions under control for now. “The angel of death must be brought into this world at midnight through a place of awful carnage. Now, back during the civil war, there was a battle in Carthage—a battle so intense, the soldiers called it 'The Battle of the Hellhole.’”  
“Where’d the massacre go down?” Dean asked.  
“On the land of William Jasper’s farm.” Bobby said.  
You and the older Winchester’s locked eyes when you heard the exact location of where the Devil would be tonight. You shrugged your shoulders slightly as you forced yourself to give the tiniest bit of a smile, thinking this was the little fraction of optimism you needed to get through these next challenging hours. But you knew. You knew this wasn’t going to end the way you wanted.  
\+ + +  
With your hands clean of blood, you stood across on the other side of the store as you watched Ellen take care of her daughter the best way she could, by telling her that everything was going to be all right. You watched them from the corner of your eye every so often as you tried keeping yourself focused on the important conversation the brothers were trying to have. While Jo was being taken care of by Ellen, you had found a little time to realize that there were a few scratches on your abdomen as well. You’d bandaged the as well you could by yourself but the bleeding was a little more than you had anticipated.   
“So, now we know where the devil’s gonna be, we know when,” Dean’s voice brought back you into reality. You swallowed slightly as your eyes adverted to the man, listening to the plan he was forming. All of it sounded perfect, but you knew the fight was just beginning for all of you. “And we have the colt.”  
You let out a heavy sigh and shook your head at him. “Yeah. We just have to get passed…eight or so hellhounds, which none of you can see, except for me. Which is a good thing, I guess. Not to mention we’ve got to get to the farm by midnight.”  
“Yeah, and that’s after we get Jo and Ellen out of town.” Dean added on.  
Sam glanced over at the woman as he let out a quiet sigh, “Won’t be easy.”  
“But it’s not impossible.” You told him, getting both their attention. “I wanna try healing Jo—”  
“But we discussed we wouldn’t do that, we still don’t know how this thing works. We could end up telling Lucifer where we are.” Sam argued but he seemed to understand your point when you pointed out that he most definitely already knows, having meg at your tail.  
“I’ve got to try. I owe them that.”  
“Y/N’s right. It’s not like we’ve haven’t had demons up or ass before.” Dean agreed.   
He started to feel a bit more positive that all of you could brainstorm an idea that could get all of you here alive and the devil dead. Even if you were able to heal her, it would still be difficult for her to move just yet. “Stretcher?”  
“I’ll see what we got.” Sam said, nodding his head.  
All of you were about to go your separate ways to get the next plan in action. You headed over to Jo and sat beside her, gathering up the strength to do what you said. Healing for you was a far different procedure than the angels. Angels could heal people with a touch of their hands but you on the other hand had to put in all your strength and concentration into it. And most importantly, the pain. Healing someone took you enduring pain that was twice as more as the person you were healing. And with your current condition, you weren’t sure if yu could handle it.   
“Alright, ready?” you asked Jo with a shaky breath and a small smile, to which she answered in a faint nod. A bright light started shining under your palms as you closed your eyes and started concentrating on healing her. A small smile appeared on Ellen’s lips when she saw it working but soon faultered when she noticed your shirt. The wounds on your abdomen had started bleeding again.  
She didn’t know the technicalities of your healing, but Dean did. She looked over her shoulder to meet Dean’s conflicting ones. The pain was worse than yu had imagined, but you were still pushing through. You owed it to them. This is the least you could do with your meaningless existence. The pain started overwhelming you and you tried your hardest to keep your lips sealed but still, a slight whimper let across. You’d done this before, you’d healed Sam once with similarly fatal injuries but this was different. Your body was already in pain, and fighting for itself.  
You heard dean whisper your name from the sidelines, “what’s happening, y/n…” he asked you, with no answer in return.  
The blood from your wounds had started seeping through your shirt and while the healing was working, your body had started giving up. You could feel the tingling sensation in your legs starting to creep up. You clenched tighter to Jo in retaliation but your eyes were forced open when you felt someone pull your hand away. You turned to see it was Dean, and as you tried to get your hand free from him, his grip only tightened.   
“Stop it, it’s killing you. We’ll find another way.” He tried reasoning with you.  
“We don’t have the time for it, Dean! What’s the point of me if I can’t do this one thing I’m actually capable of?”  
“Hey, you think I like this?!” Dean retorted with a raised voice. You were about to let out a shaky breath as the feeling of pessimism was starting to fade away, that was, until Jo’s voice caught you off guard. “Stop. Guys, stop.” You turned face the woman, your expression turned into confusion at what she was trying to do. “Can we, uh, be realistic about this, please? I can’t move my legs. I can’t be moved. My guts are being held in by an ace bandage. We gotta…we gotta get our priorities straight here. Number one—I’m not going anywhere.”  
“Joanna Beth,” Ellen scolded her daughter for having such a thought. “you stop talking like that—”  
“Mom.” Jo turned her head when she cut the woman off, She gave her mother a look as she tried her hardest to be brave here. “I can’t fight. I can’t walk. But I can do something. We’ve got propane, wiring, rock salt, iron nails—everything we need.”  
"Everything we need?” You repeated after her, you could hear your voice growing harsher at what she was trying to do.  
“To build a bomb, Y/N.” She answered you.  
“No.” You hissed at her as you began shaking your head. “No, that’s an option here. You give me one more chance I swear I can heal you!”  
“Those are hellhounds out there, Y/N. They’ve got all of our scents. Those bitches will tear you apart if you let them. And they’ll never stop coming after us.” Jo said, as if you weren’t clear on the point. You looked away from her as your jaw tightened, you knew she was winning this fight, but you were desperately clinging to any chance of letting her survive this. She deserved so much more out of life. And it was your fault for putting her in this position. You closed your eyes for a moment when you heard her voice break as she began speaking again. “We let the dogs in, you guys hit the roof, make a break for the building next over, and I can wait here with my finger on the button. Rip those mutts a new one.” She gave all of you a small smile, “Or at least get you a few minutes’ head start, anyway.”  
“No, I….” Ellen tried to scold her daughter, but her voice cracked as she stared at her with eyes glazed over. “I won’t let you.”  
“This is why we’re here, right? If I can get us a shot on the Devil…” Jo tried to reason her argue, but none of you wanted to hear it. The brothers had an easy, they grew up in this lifestyle, they’ve seen more people than you could count. But you couldn’t wrap your head around the idea. You stood there with your arms crossed over your chest as you stared at her with a disapproving look. “Y/N, stop looking at me like that. We have to take it.” Ellen whimpered out a no as she tried again to fight this, wanting the same outcome as you, but her daughter stopped her. “Mom. This might literally be your last chance to treat me like an adult. You might want to take it.”  
Ellen’s response was a few quiet sobs as she shook her head, knowing damn well, in the dark parts of her mind, this was how it had to be. “You heard her.” Ellen said with a strong voice. She craned her neck up to look at you and the boys to give you the command. “Get to work.”  
You took Jo’s dying wish and you did it the best you could. You grabbed everything that Jo had listed. Building a bomb was easier than you thought, and under forty minutes, everything was all taken care of. You had all the belongings everyone had packed next to the back door for a quick escape. The boys lined up all the buckets around the front door and wired everything up so it was all now on a string of fishing line.   
You wanted to stay here, but you had other things to take care of. You inhaled a shaky breath as you began walking forward to the back. Ellen wandered over to her only daughter as she crouched down, wanting to give her final goodbye, at least, that’s what you thought. Both of the women stared at each other for a few moments, all though it was smiles, it soon became tears when Ellen shook her head slightly, deciding she didn’t want to go. She wanted to stay with her daughter.  
“Mom, no.” Jo pleaded as she began crying herself when she realized what the woman was trying to do.  
“Somebody’s got to let them in. And like you said, you’re not moving. You got me, Jo. And you’re right. This is important. But I will not leave you here alone.”  
Ellen made her point clear. What could you say? Nothing would change her mind. You looked over at the brothers, deciding that this was it, you couldn’t change history. But your feet wouldn’t move, as you still were hoping for a miracle to say the day. "Get going’ now, boys. And don’t say anything. Just go.” You tighten your grip around the shotgun Jo had gave you and headed for the back door, but it seemed Ellen had one more thing to say. “And, kids…kick it in the ass. Don’t miss.”  
You nodded your head at the woman, as you kept your composure together. You gave one final goodbye before you walked to the back door and swung open. Cautiously peering out to examine the sight, you drew the shotgun forward, waiting for something to pop out, but all you were greeted with was a dark alleyway.  
You and the boys had only a few minutes to spare as you began walking forward to the fire escape. All three of you managed to get at least down a few stores in under a minute. You were anticipating for the blow every single second that passed you, but when it did, it took you by surprise.  
It happened when you were trying to catch your breath, the explosion had came out of nowhere, sending you to jump nearly a foot in the air as you stumbled slightly forward. You quickly whipped your head over your shoulder to see the once standing hardware store be blown into a mess of smoke and flames of fire. You could feel a burst of heat hit your skin as the fumes rushed through like a breeze. You found yourself staring at the situation that was unfolding right in front of your eyes, almost like you were stunned, as if none of this was happening. But when you felt Dean yank you roughly on your arm to get moving again, you tighten your grip on the shotgun and turned around in your spot, channeling your emotions for something better.


	21. Abandon All Hope part 3

It took you over an hour to get to the farm, but you still had a half an hour to spare. Plenty of time to stop the devil in his work. You quietly traveled behind the boys as you tried to find out where he could be in this massive amount of land. But you found him. You trailed forward to a tree with the branches parted enough to see right through what was going on. There was a dozen people just standing around, but it was the man shoveling in the distance that caught your attention. You had only seen Lucifer when he decided to pop into your head for the fun of it. Never did you have the chance to see him in the flesh for the first, and very last, time.  
“I guess we know what happened to some of the townspeople.” Dean said, taking notice of the crowd that was formed around the Devil himself. You swallowed as you looked at Lucifer, who had no idea what was about to happen in the next few seconds. “Okay.”  
“Okay.” Sam mumbled underneath his breath. He looked over at the two of you. “Last words?”  
“I think I’m good.”  
“Yeah. Me too.”  
The brothers agreed that it would be better to keep this light and simple. You wanted this over and done with, you had spent too long being tortured by the angel on your shoulder. It was time for him to be buried in that ditch he was digging. “Okay, kids.” Dean whispered to you as you looked at the both of them with a serious expression. “Here goes nothing.”  
Sam looked down at you, knowing this plan was only going to work if Lucifer had gotten exactly what he wanted, and that was the both of you—his vessel and you. You gave him a small smile and nixed your head for the man to go first as you would follow behind. You let out a quiet sigh as you looked over your shoulder at the older Winchester. Both of you smiled at one another before walking to your doom as Dean disappeared into the darkness, all of you unsure of what was going to come of tonight.  
Lucifer had been caught up in his little gardening as dozens of his creations watched him, and politely waited for their command. He pushed his foot against the shovel as he dug up another pile of dirt, pushing it to the side. “Hey!” But he stopped when he heard a female voice echo through the night air. Lucifer quickly turned his head forward to the crowd, wondering where the sweet noise had come from. He squinted his eyes slightly to see if he could find the voice, as you appeared, his lips stretched into a small smile as you emerged from the crowd with another familiar face trailing behind you. Sam cocked the gun he had been holding, showing off that he wasn’t coming here without a fight. “You wanted to see us?!”  
You stared at the angel standing in front of you with a devious look, all of the grief that you had been feeling not too long ago had transformed itself into pure anger. You watched as Lucifer dropped his shovel to the ground and walked forward to you and the younger Winchester. “Well, Sam, you don’t need that gun here. You know I’d never hurt you two.” Lucifer promised you as he kept his distance. You narrowed your eyes slightly as you heard the rainstorm that was starting to brew quietly start to thunder in the distance. “Not really.”  
“Yeah?” Your lips stretched into a devilish smile at the sight of Dean, who had sneakily found his way to the top of the dirt pile. Lucifer had no clue there was the infamous colt pressed against his skull, until he heard the safety go off. The angel turned his head slowly to the vessel that would be for his brother. Dean cocked the gun with his thumb and positioned his finger on the trigger. “Well, I’d hurt you. So suck it.”  
You heard the familiar noise of a gunshot go off as it echoed through the miles of empty land. You let out a faint gasp as you saw the body of Lucifer drop to the ground. It seemed almost too good to be true. You blinked, waiting for any second for him to come up, but he just laid there, showing no signs of movement. This was it, he was really dead. You let out a slight noise that sounded like a laugh, but you weren’t sure. The boys were stunned themselves at what had unfolded. Dean held the smoking gun, and for the year and a half that all of you had struggled, was the moment of victory. He stared at his little brother with a smile, and for the first time in a long time, he felt happy.  
You were happy at the joyous moment that was unfolding right in front of your eyes. It did take sweat, blood and tears to get here. You found yourself looking away from the older Winchester when you felt something tickle your forehead, it rolled down the skin like a tear. You reached up a finger, thinking it was sweat, you had been running around for what felt like a lifetime. Of course you weren’t going to look pretty. You took a swipe of the liquid on the top of your finger and carelessly looked down at it. You furrowed your brow slightly to see the color was far darker than you expected.  
Blood? Was that—  
The boys were starting to grin from ear to ear, Sam found himself letting out what sounded like the start to a laugh. God, he didn’t know when the last time he had the chance to enjoy the feeling of accomplishment without feeling guilty. All those months of sucking down demon blood and trusting the enemy than his own family. People had to fall before they could get better. Sam was about to say something, but it ended up being your name from what happened next.  
He saw from the corner of your eye shift slightly in your spot. He turned his head just at the right time to see you tried taking a step forward, but you had twisted around in your spot, making Sam watch as your eyes rolled into the back of your head before you dropped to the grass. And just like that, the mood was ruined.  
“Y/N? Oh, my God. Y/N?!” Sam desperately called out your name as he dropped to his knees, trying to figure out what happened. The brothers knew that this was expected but still, they were clinging to the one percent chance that it would not happen. He tried shaking you to see if you would wake, but it seemed impossible from the hollow point in your forehead that was starting to leak out blood. He tried pressing two fingers against your neck to find a pulse, but there was none. You laid on the ground with a gunshot wound to the head. Nobody just drops without warning. But he slowly figured out what might have happened.  
Sam slowly looked up, his stomach twisting into knots when he saw the comparison at the body across the field. The Devil laid on the ground at his brother’s feet with the exact same wound that was inflicted on him. Dean stared at the sight with hollow eyes. It was unraveling all at once, and it was only going to get worse in the matter of moments.  
The Devil emerged from death with a sudden gasp of air that turned into a groan of pain as his vessel’s hand brushed against the wound inflicted on his forehead that was causing a source of pain he had never felt before. But it was manageable. Lucifer pushed himself to his feet, brushing off the dirt that clung to his jeans as he ignored the Winchesters, who were trying to wrap their head around of what the hell was going on.   
“Relax, she won’t be dead forever. She should be coming back around…now.” Lucifer pointed a finger at your body, waiting for the miraculous miracle of you coming back to life once more. But you just laid there. “Well, guess not. I mean, she is human afterall. Might take a few more minutes.”  
“What the hell did you do to her?” Dean hissed the question at the Devil.  
“You boys, She’s my anchor, —the reason why I’m allowed to roam free on God’s green earth and mingle with you…humans. She dies, I die and vice versa. I have to assume you already knew that.” Lucifer said as he pointed his index finger in the air. His lips stretched into a smile when he saw Sam stare at him with a face full of hatred as the man’s eyes glazed over. “I guess you could say the devil’s in the details. But that’s stuff we don’t need to discuss right now. What I wanna talk about is that,” The Devil his footing so he was now staring at the oldest Winchester as he nodded his head to the infamous colt. “Where did you get that?”  
Dean didn’t have a chance to answer when Lucifer decided to seek a little vengeance. He swung back an arm to punch the man, but that wasn’t his true motive, he swung hard enough so the man went flying through the air, all before roughly hitting a tree. The devil smirked to himself at seeing the man that was to be his brother’s vessel knocked unconscious. He slowly shifted his attention forward to the Winchester that mattered the most to him, and that was Sam.  
“Now, where were we?” Lucifer asked. Sam looked horrified at what was going on. “Don’t feel too bad, Sam. There’s only five things in creation that gun can’t kill, and I just happen to be one of them. But if you give me a minute, I’m almost done.”  
Sam watched as Lucifer bent down to pick up the shovel from the ground and takes a moment to scoop up two piles of dirt. The younger Winchester was conflicted on staying here with you, or going off to see if his brother was all right. “He is, by the way.” Lucifer answered the man’s thoughts. “And You'll be back around soon. I wasn’t expecting to be shot tonight, but you, sir, have given me the golden opportunity I was hoping for.”  
Pushing himself to his feet, Sam never took his eyes off the Devil has he continued to dig back up a hole he must have been working on all night as his crowd of demons just stood there. “What are you going to do to her?” The younger Winchester questioned the angel with a harsh tone.  
“Oh, nothing she won’t like. I just want to talk to her…, if you don’t mind. Give her a good image of what the future is gonna be.” Lucifer said. He leaned himself against the shovel as he gave the man a shrug of the shoulders, as if he was casually talking about the weather. “I don’t suppose you’d just say ‘yes’ right here and now? End this whole tiresome discussion? That’s crazy, right? The things I do for you kids.”  
“It’s never gonna happen!” Sam yelled at the devil.  
“Oh, I don’t know, Sam. I think it will. I think it’ll happen soon–within six months. And I think it’ll happen…in Detroit.” Lucifer speculated. “And I think that’ll be the time Y/N’s humanity will crumble. You see, I need her by my side to win this fight. I think we’ll make a good team.”  
“You listen to me, you son of a bitch.” The younger Winchester hissed at him. “You try and do anything to her and you’ll regret it. I’m gonna kill you myself. I’m gonna rip your heart out!”  
“You don’t get it Sam, do you? I’m untouchable.” Lucifer said. He looked over at the man with a growing smile. “That’s a little harsh, I suppose. But I know the connection you have with Y/N. I know it’s gonna drive you mad every single second for the next six months that you can’t do anything about it. I need that rage, Sam. I need to know that your best friend, the only person you’ve personally felt connected to, is going to turn into something you won’t even recognize, if you don’t say yes to me.”  
\+ + +  
“Open your eyes, Y/N.”  
Lucifer chanted the words from the top of the dirt hill, his arms outstretched as he stood in the same position he had been for the past few minutes, breaking the silence that had fallen over the tense air. The brothers had been hovering over your dead body for what felt like ages. The boys watched as the wound in your head began to slowly heal itself, but you weren’t alive just yet. He clenched his fists when you listened to the command.  
Your eyelids flickered open to reveal a color that was different, far different from what the brothers were ready to finally see. The moonlight coming from above reflected off the hallow color in your eyes, replacing the familiar shades each of them had grown to be familiarized with. They weren’t Y/E/C, and they sure weren’t purple like they’d seen. Your eyes were darker. With the sinister glow, exactly like Dean had once seen, in future.  
The colour only lasted for a few seconds until you blinked again, returning yourself back to normal. You found yourself inhaling a deep breath as your eyes grew wide after your body had kicked back into life again after being out for a few minutes. You jolted up from the ground and sat up, a frantic expression settled on your face as you slowly began to come back around. Settling your gaze on the far distance of the farm, ever so slowly, you averted your gaze to the two men that had been watching this entire scene unfold.   
"And she’s back!” Lucifer’s voice made you painfully look over your shoulder to see that he was still there. He grabbed the shovel back from the pile and continued on digging, as if nothing happened. “Back together again. Like a big old, dysfunctional family.”  
“What did you do?” You questioned him, but your voice barely came out louder than a whisper. Your brow scrunched in confusion at why he needed so many demons, and why he was spending so much time digging a hole. “What did you do to this town?”  
“Oh, I was very generous with this town. One demon for every-able bodied man.” Lucifer said as he shoved another pile of dirt into the hole. You forced yourself into asking about the rest of the townspeople, but you suddenly regretted it when you got the answer. The Devil stopped digging for a moment as he leaned against the shovel. He wasn’t standing on top of a dirt pile, it was a shallow grave. You felt like you were about to be sick to your stomach as tears began to slowly form in your eyes again at the unfortunate fate of so many people. “In there. I know, Y/N–it’s awful. But…these horsemen are so demanding. So it was women and children first.”  
You let out a breath from what was unfolding, as if you thought things couldn’t get any worse. It was only spiraling more out of control with each second you let pass by. “I know what you must think of me, kids. But I have to do this. I have to.” Lucifer tried to explain himself to you and the younger Winchester, “You, Sam, out of all people, should understand.”  
“Well, what is that supposed to mean?” The younger Winchester asked with a snarky tone.  
Lucifer threw the shovel to the ground at the question. He took a step forward to the three of you, “I was a son. A brother, like you. A younger brother. And I had an older brother who I loved. Idolized, in fact. And one day, I went to him and I begged him to stand with me, and Michael…Michael turned on me. Called me a freak. A monster. And then he beat me down. All because I was different. Because I had a mind of my own. Tell me something, Sam.” The Devil knew he had hit a very sensitive nerve in the man. “Any of this sound familiar?”  
“Anyway…you’ll have to excuse me. Midnight is calling. And I have a ritual to finish. Don’t go anywhere.” Lucifer pointed a finger at the three of you. “Not that you could if you would.”  
Your legs were forced to the ground, giving you the only option of watching as this sight unfold to the bloody end. He stood with his arms outstretched as he chanted something you couldn’t understand for a moment “Now, repeat after me. We offer up our lives, blood, souls…” Lucifer began, and just a second later, his creations repeated each word in perfect sync. “…To complete this tribute.” The darkness ignited with a hue of orange as you watched each body fall to the ground, one by one, all of them fell like dominos, until there was nothing left but dead bodies. Lucifer seemed pleased with his progress, but when he noticed your lingering stare, and how much you stared at him with disgust, it didn’t bother him that much. “What? They’re just demons.”  
You felt the vibrations just a moment later, You looked over at the boys with a worried expression. All of you needed to get out of here before you could meet Death himself. But you were stuck to the ground.. You let out a quiet sigh and slowly turned your head to see where Lucifer had gone, but you saw someone blocking your vision, almost causing a gasp of surprise to come out at who you saw.  
Thankfully you were quick enough to keep quiet as Cas was right next to you. He pressed his finger against his lips, wanting to keep the element of surprise for long as he could before Lucifer could find out. For the first time since you had gotten here, you felt relief, getting out of that hell hole when Cas put his hand on your shoulder, sending you far away from here.


	22. My Bloody Valentine part 1

Valentine’s Day; Dean was always giddy about it. Single women crying into their drinks at the bar, begging for some guy to take them home to feel just a little bit loved. All of you would admit you’ve done things in the past to show that you were interested in someone cute. But you might have found someone that topped your behaviour.  
“If you’d only be my valentine.” You read off the saying from a cute little romantic card with a fat baby Cupid on the front. Someone went out of their way to stick it on the fridge with a magnet to complete the festive theme. What was causing you to look at the seemingly innocent card with a bit of a perplexed expression was the smudges of blood on the edges of the paper. You felt sick to your stomach at the reason why you and Sam were here at the victim’s house. A few days before the holiday of love you had read about a couple who went on a seemingly innocent date. Only it ended with the both of them literally eating each other to death until they just stopped. You shuddered at the thought. And how they could just eat you right up…  
“So,” You stepped away from the card and faced the victim’s friend, who had been kind enough to let you into the apartment. But from the disturbed look on her face, even she didn’t know what happened. “You were the one who found the bodies?”  
“There was blood everywhere, and…other stuff.” Alice’s roommate recalled the tragic event as she walked over to the fireplace, taking down a few photographs of the two of them and walking over to the box she had on the coffee table. “I think Alice was already dead.”  
“And Russell wasn’t?” Sam presumed, wondering what the woman meant by that.  
“I think he was, mostly, except…he was still sort of…chewing a little.” She admitted ever so slowly, as just trying to tell the memory with words was painfully disturbing for her. Your nose crinkled as you pressed a hand against your stomach, Sam nodded his head, trying his hardest not to react in any sort of manner. Both of you gave one another a shuddering look when the roommate wasn’t looking after spotting the floor in the kitchen. Despite being cleaned with bleach several times, the bloodstains remained clear as ever, showing the last romantic events Alice and Russell would ever have. “How do two people even do that—eat each other to death?”  
“That’s a good question.” Sam thought out loud to himself. The reason why the three of you were drawn to the case was because it seemed like it was right up your alley in the weird department, but you were starting to see things weren’t going to be easy as you’d thought of pinning down a reason for this cannibalistic behaviour. “Now, the last few days, did you notice her acting erratically? Did she seem unusually hostile, aggressive?”  
“No way.” She chuckled at the accusation, knowing her roommate was never capable of that sort of behaviour. “Alice never drank, never even swore. She was a nice girl. And I’m talking, like, a nice girl—like she still had her promise ring, if you know what I mean.”  
You raised your brow in a bit of surprise at what the woman was subtly hinting around, “You mean she was still a virgin?”  
“No premarital. I used to wonder how she did it. I mean, you know, didn’t do it.” She found herself correcting what she was trying to say about her roommate. “It was her first date in months. She was so excited.”  
“Apparently, they were both pretty excited.” You muttered underneath your breath.  
\+ + +  
You and Sam headed back to the motel after spending a little over an hour sweeping the apartment for anything which could detect the reasoning behind why two seemingly normal people who want to eat themselves to death. It felt like something straight out of a Stephen King novel. But it seemed Sam didn’t lose his appetite when he complained about being hungry and wanted to get something on the way home. He was going to have a long night of research anyway.   
Dean was sitting at the table with his feet kicked up on the table reading one of the case files he must’ve grabbed from the coroner after spending the afternoon at the hospital. He glanced away from the report to see you come in first to the motel room, Sam following behind. “How’d it go?” He asked, you scoffed and kicked off your heels to let your feet breathe.  
“No EMF, no sulfur.” You told him your findings as you headed for the table. You pushed off his legs so he was now sitting normally as Sam headed over to his bed so he could take off his jacket. “Ghost possession and demonic possession are both probably out.”  
“Hmm. That’s where I was puttin’ my money.” Dean mumbled, seeming a little disappointed at the lack of answers which could easily explain why a couple devoured each other. “Well, then what? Oh, dude! At the coroner’s—you didn’t see these bodies. I mean, these two started eating and they just…kept going. I mean, their stomachs were full. LIke—Like, thanksgiving dinner full. Talk about co-dependent.”  
“Well, I mean, we got our feelers out. Not much more we can do tonight.” Sam said. He walked over to the empty seat that was right across from his brother and took it as his own. The younger Winchester didn’t waste anymore time in grabbing the laptop from his brother and diving deep into the research that was awaiting him. “I’m just gonna go through some files. You can go ahead and get going.” He said, directed towards Dean.  
Dean looked a little bit confused at what his brother mentioned, “Sorry?”  
“Go ahead. Unleash the kraken. I really don’t care, just keep it down. You too, Y/N.” Sam mumbled as he pulled up what documents he would need before retiring to bed. "See you tomorrow morning.”  
“Where are Y/N and I supposed to be going?” Dean asked, not catching on to the subtle point.  
“Are you drunk off one beer? It’s Valentine’s Day, Dean. Your favourite holiday, remember? I mean, what do you always call it—uh, unattached drifter Christmas?“ You tried to hide your smile at the stupid name that he’d given it, as it only made your hatred for the holiday grow even stronger. "I thought you must want to go out.”  
"Really? It is? Oh. I must’ve forgot.” Dean mumbled, not sounding like himself today. You furrowed your brow when he got up from his seat to exchange his empty beer bottle with another one from the cooler. He twisted off the top and threw it over his shoulder, landing it perfectly into the sink as he leaned himself against the counter. “I don’t know. Guess I’m not feeling it this year.”  
“So, you’re not into the idea of drinking much as you want and seeing girls in some cute lingerie they bought a few days ago for this glorious holiday?” You asked, just baiting him to see what he would do next. Normally he would jump on the idea of booze and spending a night with a pretty girl other time of the year. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders, all before saying how he wasn’t in the mood for it. “Dean, come on! Let’s have some fun. I could really use a wingman.”  
“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Dean apologized, shrugging his shoulders slightly. “I’m not in the mood.”  
You let out a breath and looked away from him, feeling a bit disappointed at how weird Dean was acting today. Sam seemed worried himself at the kind of behavior that seemed the polar opposite of what he would expect from his big brother.  
“It’s when a dog doesn’t eat—that’s when you know something’s really wrong.” Sam said with a concerning voice, but it was the sarcasm undertone that made you crack the slightest smile.  
“Remarkably patronizing concerned duly noted. Nothing’s wrong. I just think we should work on the case. That’s all.” Dean said, wanting to get that point clear before you or his brother could try and pull some joke again. You crossed your arms over your chest and gave him an annoyed look, obviously pissed off with his decision. He walked back to the table and leaned down so he could give you a quick kiss on the forehead before sitting himself back down. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Can we do it some other time? I’ll even up my game to make it up.”  
\+ + +  
You spent the rest of the afternoon in your own motel room, getting ready for the routine of feasting on a box of candies you’d bought for yourself and order that free champagne you saw being advertisedBefore you did, there was a knock on the door, all though it wasn’t your booze, but the boys. It seemed there was a couple having a much worse Valentine’s day than you tonight.  
Much as you would have rathered to stay home and indulge yourself, you decided that it would be better if you and the boys headed down to the hospital and see what was going on. You heard from the recap that Sam had given you on the way to the car you were looking at three victims had been fatally shot this time—a murder and double suicide. It seemed from the statement the janitor who’d been working tonight had said it was love gone wrong. One of the victim’s girlfriend’s had shown up, looking distraught and angry at being stood up on the most romantic holiday of the year. Nothing would calm her down, not even the voice of reason, the guy’s co-worker, who ended up being the third victim found titled over in the office chair with a gunshot wound to the chest. The girlfriend shot herself before her boyfriend did the same, splattering their brains on the ceiling. Whatever was happening to these people, it seemed they were so much in love, they would go far as killing whatever it was that got in their way before doing it to themselves.  
Sam walked down the hallway with his brother as you trailed behind, keeping quiet as you looked at the numbers on each of the doors that you passed, making sure you got the right one. His eyes were focused like always, but when he noticed someone coming down the hall from the corner of his eye, Sam looked out of curiosity. The guy coming down the hall was wearing a black suit and holding a briefcase, and while he could have been any other stranger, Sam found himself looking back when he caught a whiff of something he hadn’t come across in a long, long time. He followed the smell, accidentally stopping in his tracks for a second to watch as the stranger continued on down the hallway, not even realizing what he’d done until you accidentally crashed right into him.  
“Sam, watch it!” You hissed at the younger man, somehow managing to balance yourself before you could go tumbling to the ground. You took a moment to press down on your clothes and adjust yourself. When you glanced up, Sam was staring down the hallway, suddenly appearing tense, like he’d seen something that riled him up in all the wrong ways. “You okay?”  
Sam sniffed the air once more, wondering if the smell had come from the man, or if this was just a figment of his imagination. He leaned forward slightly to where you were standing, and did it again, but this time it was different, almost better. You furrowed your brow in concern at his strange behavior, wondering what had gotten into him. Sam did, too. He pulled at the collar of his dress shirt and mumbled that he was fine, all before continuing down the way to the morgue with you and his brother. You brushed off the incident as nothing when you headed inside for the two other bodies that were waiting for you.  
“Agent Marley.” Dr. Corman greeted the oldest Winchester when he saw the man coming into the swinging door. He was an older, quite round looking man with a friendly smile when he noticed two strange faces tagging along. “You just can’t stay away.”  
“Heard you tagged another double suicide.” Dean said, giving the reason why he was here again.  
“Well, I just finished closing them up.” Dr. Corman said, nodding his head to the two dead bodies lying on the metal slab, now covered up with a thin sheet.  
“Dr. Corman, these are my partners. Special Agent Cliff.” Dean introduced his little brother first as both men shook hands. You gave the doctor a friendly smile as you reached out an arm to shake hands with the man yourself. “And Special Agent Monroe.”  
“I’ve finished my prelims.” Dr. Corman said. He walked over to the coat rack that was just by the door. It seemed the doctor didn’t waste a second in shedding off his lab coat and called it quits. “I pulled the organ sets and sent off the tox samples.”  
“Great. You mind if we take a look at the bodies?” You asked, pointing a finger over your shoulder at the victims still lying not too far from where you stood.  
“Not at all. But like I said—their good-and-plenties are already tupperwared.” Dr. Coleman opened up the freezer door to show off all the victims organs were, in fact, properly labeled and sealed away. The doctor tossed the keys to Dean and grabbed his jacket, all before giving the three of you a set of easy instructions to follow. “Leave the keys with Marty up front. And please, lady and gentlemen, refrigerate- after opening.”  
You reassured him, letting the man go off to enjoy his night that was still young. The boys worked in gathering all of the organs out as you slipped off your jacket and rolled up your sleeves. You put on some hideous blue plastic apron and snapped on some gloves before diving straight into a table full of human organs. Your nose crinkled as you reached for anything that you could, pulling it forward. As you snapped off the top to what appeared to be the lungs, you let out a sigh, mumbling something about this was exactly how you wanted to spend your Valentine’s day.   
“Hey.” Dean noticed that you were still a bit upset. He slid over the container that held the heart of the female victim. You glanced up to see it was mere inches from where you sat. You grimaced and looked up at Dean, wondering why he did that. “Be my valentine?”  
You mocked his smile before you were rolling your eyes in annoyance, shoving the heart out of the way, ignoring it all together as a possible clue to help figure out what was going on here. Sam glanced up from what he was looking at to see that the both of you were still acting the same, but his attention lingered to the human heart. He leaned forward slightly, taking notice of a strange mark that seemed out of place. Sam didn’t waste a second in finding the other victim’s heart and took off the top. Pushing them together, the man noticed there was a pattern here.  
“These hearts both have identical marks. Check this out.” Sam reached for the magnifier lamp and pulled it forward so he could take a closer look. You got out from your seat and hovered over his shoulder to see there was something out of place. He mentioned that it looked like a letter, perhaps an E that was sideways, but the man seemed to have a clue when he pushed away the light. You gave him a look, wondering what was the reaction. "I think it’s Enochian.”  
“You mean like angel scratches?” Dean presumed.  
“You think it could be like the engraving on our ribs?”  
“Y/N, I don’t know.” Sam admitted, you let out a frustrated sigh.  
“Alrighty. We’ve got Curly and Moe. All we’re missing is Larry.” You muttered underneath your breath. Snapping off your gloves, you reached a hand inside your jacket pocket to pull out your phone and call your favorite angel. You began walking around the table when the other end began to ring, but it only lasted once before you heard the familiar gravel tone after he answer. “Cas, it’s Y/N. Yeah. Room 31-C. Basement level…St. James Medical Center.”  
“I’m there now.”  
You didn’t realize your voice was echoing until you spotted a pair of blue eyes staring back at you. Before you could make the same mistake you did with Sam, you stopped dead in your tracks to see Cas was in fact here. “Yeah.” You said into the phone, despite having the person you were talking to was standing right in front of you. You gave him a look. “I get that.”  
“I’m gonna hang up now.” Cas said, seeming to know what to do in this awkward encounter. You gave him a smile as you pressed your finger on the end button, stopping the echo coming from the phones so you could tell the angel what Sam had found on the hearts. Cas walked over to the table and picked up the human heart bare handed, He only needed to examine it for a few moments before he recognized the familiar writing. “You’re right, Sam. These are angelic marks. I imagine you’ll find similar marks on the other couples’ hearts as well.”  
“So, what are they?” You asked. “I mean, what do they mean?”  
“It’s a mark of union. This man and women were intended to mate.” Cas explained, you furrowed your brow to who could be doing the match making. “Your people call them ‘Cupid.’ What human myth has mistaken for 'Cupid’ is actually a lower order of angel. Technically it’s a cherub, third-class. They’re all over the world. There are dozens of them.”  
“You mean the little flying fat kid in diapers?” Dean presumed, thinking the Hallmark holiday baby was what you were going to be up against. You let out a quiet chuckle from the imagery.  
“They’re not incontinent.” Cas said. You narrowed your eyes slightly as you tried to figure out what the angel was trying to say, but he cut you off, giving you exactly what all of you were up against. “What I’m saying is a cupid has gone rogue. And we have to stop him—before he kills again.”  
“…Naturally.”  
“Of course we do.”  
\+ + +  
“My luck is just going great tonight.“ You mumbled underneath your breath as you looked around at the restaurant. You gave the waitress who have served your meals and drinks a smile before she disappeared, tending to her other couples on this very busy night.   
“This place is a nexus of human reproduction. It’s exactly the kind of—” Cas started speaking, you looked around at the place and chewed your food. The angel stopped himself for a second when he noticed Dean had ordered a burger and squeeze some ketchup on the bun to complete the meal. Cas looked away from the food and went back to explaining why an angel of love would choose this. ”…Of garden the cupid will come to—to pollinate.“  
Looking over at the man sitting across from you, Dean got ready to take a bite his burger, but it seemed that he wasn’t in the mood to eat his second favorite food in the whole world. “Wait. You’re not hungry?”  
“No.” Dean said. You looked over at his little brother, the both of you giving each other a curious look to what had gotten into the man. First he declined a night out, and now he wasn’t eating. The man instantly got annoyed from the looks that were being put on him. “What? I’m not hungry.”  
“Then you’re not going to finish that?” Cas presumed. As if you thought things couldn’t get any weirder, the angel, who you had seen never take a bite of food, reach out and grab the plate away from Dean. He eagerly grabbed the burger from the plate and got ready to take a bite. But before he could sink his teeth into the bun, the angel stopped, almost as if he’d come to his senses, only he spotted something that caught him from eating. “He’s here.”  
You began looking around the restaurant, trying to figure out what Cas was looking at, but nothing stood out of the ordinary to you. You asked what the hell you were supposed to be finding, Cas pointed you in the direction of a couple that was sharing the same booth seat, and in just a blink of an eye, were suddenly heavily into some PDA with no signs of remorse. “Meet me in the back.” Was the only directions the angel gave you before he disappeared from sight.  
You and the boys exchanged a confused look at where Cas could have gone. The three of you got up from your seats and found your way to the back alley of the restaurant where there was nobody around, except for Cas. The angel stood with his back turned to you and his arm stretched out in front of him, seeming to have Cupid tethered to an invisible rope. With a few words in what you were presuming Enochian, Cas gave the command for his fellow brother to show himself. You looked around, wondering what you were supposed to be looking for, as it was just the same scene when a few seconds passed by.  
“So, where is he?” You asked, getting ready to turn around in your spot. But before you could move a single inch, you suddenly felt a pair of arms wrap around your body, squeezing you into a tight hold, and with ease, lifted you a few inches up from the ground. You fought your hardest to get out of this, but it seemed you found your cupid from the cheery voice that came from behind.  
“Here I am!”  
\+ + +  
You didn’t know what was happening; the last thing you remembered was looking for Cupid after Cas said he’d gotten him restrained, then all of a sudden, you were being lifted from behind and someone started giggling in your ear. You tried your hardest to fight off your attacker and get away from them far as possible. But it seemed he wanted to squeeze you one more time for some kind of added effect before dropping you back to your feet. You quickly stumbled away from to see who this Cupid was. He was an awfully jolly man from the grin on his face. Yet he wasn’t dressed in a diaper or carrying a bow and arrow with heart shaped tips. He wasn’t, well…your eyes widened at the discovery before quickly looking away. Your mother taught you that it was awfully rude to stare at people. And you sure didn’t want to stare at a naked man with his bare ass hanging out.  
“Hello you!” Cupid greeted his fellow brother with open arms as he walked past Dean, saving the man from a very awkward greeting he wouldn’t take lightly. The man quietly hid behind you as he tried his hardest to avoid the naked man running around the cold night like nothing was wrong. Poor Cas let out a noise that sounded like a grunt of pain when his brother squeezed him tightly as he did to you. You raised your brows at your angel friend, asking the important question if this was the Cupid you were looking for, Cas managed to give you a strained yes. Cupid dropped his brother back down to the ground, wondering who he might have missed. Another smile spread across his lips when he noticed Sam standing far away as possible. “And look at you, huh? You’re like a moose! Come here, you!”  
Sam tried his hardest to be polite to the angel as he started to slowly back away, hopeful that a smile would work as he mumbled no, his protests failed when he felt himself being thrown into a front side hug. You shuddered from what you had to endure and looked over at Cas, wondering exactly what the hell was going on here as Cupid continued on sharing a hug with the younger Winchester which should have ended way before it started. The more Sam struggled, the more Cupid only pulled him into a tighter embrace.  
“Is this a fight?“ Dean quietly asked the angel. "Are we in a fight?”  
“This is…their handshake.”  
“I don’t like it.”  
“Nobody likes it, Y/N.”  
Cupid gave the younger Winchester one more tight squeeze before he felt content enough that all of you felt the love this joyous holiday. He patted the man on the back and stepped away, leaving Sam feel very awkward, a little bit violated. When Cupid stepped forward so he was now facing the three of you, you gotten a sight that you should have been expecting to see, only it made your eyes widen in horror. But before an image could be permanently burned in the back of your brain, Dean quickly shielded your eyes with his hand to spare you from anymore of the horror. The angel let out a deep sigh and placed his hands on his hips, the only thing he was wearing was toothy grin for the four of you.  
“What can I do for you?” Cupid curiously asked.  
“Why are you doing this?” Cas questioned his brother, making the other angel look a bit perplexed at the accusation he wasn’t aware of. He asked what he brother meant as his nose crinkled when he smiled even more. You quickly ripped Dean’s hand away from your face when this was starting to grow uncomfortable, more than the naked man standing right in front of you. “Your targets—the ones you marked—they’re slaughtering each other.”  
Cupid fell silent from hearing the information he wasn’t expecting to turn out. All of the centuries he had been stationed on Earth, nothing had gone wrong. His brow worried in confusion at what was going on. “What? They are?”  
“Listen, birthday suit, we know, okay?” Dean told the angel, not falling for the puppy dog look. “We know you been flittin’ around, popping people with your poison arrow, making them murder each other!”  
“What we don’t know is why.” Cas said.  
“You think that I—” Cupid looked at the three of you with a hurt expression, wondering what he did to have caused such a terrible first impression. You furrowed your brow when he started to look like he was about to cry. His index finger pressed against his lips as his eyes crinkled slightly, like he was about to cry. “I don’t know what to say.”  
You pushed yourself out of the way so the naked Cupid could go run into the corner of the room and sulk at the accusation he seemed to have been innocent from his reaction. “This…This is what my life has come to.” You muttered underneath your breath as you gestured to the three idiots standing around you, unsure of what was happening themselves. Sam seemed a bit concerned himself when Cupid let out another sob, you looked over your shoulder, feeling kind of bad for him. But no way were you going over there and trapping yourself into another hug. Never again. “Cas, he’s your brother. Go talk to him. Give him…some love or whatever Cupids like. Just stop making him cry. He’s making me feel bad.”  
“Yeah. Y/N’s right.” Dean agreed with you, nodding his head. “Give ‘em hell, Cas.”  
Cas looked like a deer in headlights from what you were pushing into. He didn’t understand human emotions, let alone, someone who was just bursting with endless amounts of love. Sam gave the angel a supportive pat on the back before he was pushing him forward, forcing him to do the deed. You gave Cas a smile and a thumbs up when he hesitantly looked over his shoulder, showing you his distress as Cupid let out another sob. But Cas didn’t have much of a choice. So, he gave it his all.  
“Um…look, we didn’t mean to, uh,” Cas awkwardly tried to figure out what to say to make his brother feel better. “Hurt your feelings.”  
Cupid seemed to have been feeling better when he stopped crying a second later and embraced his brother with a tight hug, rocking him and Cas back and forth. “Love is more than a word to me. I love love. I love it!” Cupid declared with enthusiasm as he shut his eyes, enjoying the comforting embrace that Cas was desperately trying to get out of. But he didn’t want to be rude, so the poor angel endured for a little bit longer. “And if that’s wrong, I don’t want to be right!”  
“Yes, yes. Of course. I,” Cas tried his hardest to be comforting as he went the extra mile to embrace his brother into a hug, lightly patting the naked man on the back. The angel tried to figure out why Cupid would be so caught up with a human emotion as love. “I have no idea what you’re saying.”  
“I was just on my appointed rounds. Whatever my targets do after that that’s nothing to do with me. I-I was following my orders. Please brother. Read my mind. Read my mind, you’ll see.” Cupid tried to explain his innocence as he begged for Cas to do some neat angel trick. You crossed your arms over your chest as Cas fell silent for a moment, staring off into Cupid’s eyes, all before saying that he was telling the truth. Not that you couldn’t tell from his highly peppy attitude. “Jiminy Christmas. Thank you.”  
“Wait, wait, you said—You said you were just following orders?” You asked him, finding it a bit interesting. Cupid nodded his head as his lips stretched into a smile, obviously he didn’t hate his job. He loved it. “Whose orders?”  
“Heaven, silly! Heaven.” Cupid answered you with a laugh, acting as if you just told him the sky was green. You furrowed your brow in confusion as you followed up with another question, wondering why Heaven would care if two people meet. “Oh, mostly they don’t. You know, certain bloodlines, certain destinies. Oh, like you three.”  
“What?” Sam asked, officially confused himself.  
“Yeah, the union of John and Mary Winchester— Very big deal upstairs, top priority arrangement. Mm” Cupid told. “John and Mary, let me tell you, both of them were stubborn. Ooh, they couldn’t stand each other at first. But when we were done with them—Perfect couple!”  
“Perfect?” Dean asked, repeating the angel. Cupid nodded his head with a growing smile, the man didn’t find it all that amusing. “They’re dead! Both of them are!”  
“I’m sorry. But the orders were clear. You and Sam needed to be born. Certain bloodline and all that jazz. They don’t really tell me anything.” Cupid said, shrugging his shoulders as he smiled, not seeming to care about the details of why. “Oh! But you two. I feel so honored to be in the presence of my own work. And you think John and Mary were a big deal? You two are like celebrities up there in my neck of the woods. Everyone wanted the job when Y/N came into the picture. But I was the lucky one.”  
“Excuse me?” You asked, wondering what he was talking about.  
“I remember when the two of you were just kids. So precious. Now look at the both of you. All grown up.” Cupid said with a grin. He reached out and lightly pinched your cheek, you quickly slapped his hand away, urging him to tell you what he exactly meant by that. “You know my favorite kind of love that just beats the rest? Soulmates. It’s such a rare thing we get to do. And to see the cute couple I paired up with? Boy, it’s like Christmas for me!”  
“Wait, wait.” Dean stopped the angel from saying anything else for a moment, wanting to get this straightened out before he could go on about something else. “Are you telling me Y/N and I are—”


	23. My Bloody Valentine part 2

“What? No, not you silly. Sam! Y/N and Sam are soulmates.  
Oh, you don’t know how big of a deal it was when we heard the news. This is a rare occurrence that almost never happens. I mean, who would’ve thought Lucifer’s vessel and God’s daughter would make such a good couple?”  
Sam let out an awkward laugh at what you heard, “But- but, we’re not a couple. It’s a mistake I’m sure.”  
“Please, I don’t make mistakes. Besides, you’re not a couple now but future? Oh I can’t wait to see it. You two are what life’s all about. Good versus evil. Heaven and Hell. One without the other would mean chaos. But together, oh, it’s just right.” Cupid said. He intertwined his fingers to get his point across even more. “Opposites really do attract!”  
“That’s crap.” Dean muttered, he let out a bitter sounding chuckle as he rolled his eyes. “Why would you dicks set them up? For what reason?”  
“Aren’t you a grumpy one today. Good things do happen, Dean. Both of them were specially meant to be together. It’s what we were told to do.” Cupid said. The angel was grinning from ear to ear as he burst out into a little tune. “Match made in Heaven! Heaven!”  
You were still confused as to what all this meant for you but for some reason, Dean had already decided he wanted the Cupid to shut up for good. Dean, without a single ounce of remorse, tried to swing a punch at the angel to quiet him up. It only ended with him cradling his now bruised hand as he winced in pain. Cupid, your only source to figuring out what was going on, wasn’t feeling the love anymore. When you blinked, trying to apologize for the older Winchester’s obnoxious behavior, Cupid was nowhere to be seen. You let out a frustrated sigh and turned to face the man.  
“Where is he?” Dean asked, looking around the room to see where that fat naked man went. “Where’d he go?!”  
“I believe you upset him.” Cas said.  
Dean scoffed at what the angel said, “Upset him?! What’s he got to be upset about?”  
“Oh my God. Dean, enough with the attitude!” You called him out on his weird attitude. “You just punched a cupid!”  
“I punched a dick, Y/N!” Dean shouted at you.  
"Well, guess I’m done here.” You said, before walking out.   
\+ + +  
The next morning you gotten a call from Dr. Coleman, but instead of you tagging along with the boys, you decided to check this one out yourself. You had been avoiding Dean for long as possible and knowing Sam, he would try to see how you were doing. Okay, if you were being completely honest, you were avoiding both of them. It was just too awkward after the Cupid saying that Sam Winchester and you were soulmates. All you’d ever seen Sam as was the closest friend you’d ever had. And Dean, well, you just couldn’t understand what he had to be so furious about that he would punch a cupid. But you would rather not find out.  
It was just a simple run down to the morgue, dressed in your usual formal clothing, to see if the dead body that showed up last night might have been your thing. You followed behind the doctor as you reached out a hand to keep the swinging door open for yourself, both of you headed into the dead body awaiting you.  
“You said you wanted to hear about any other weird ones.” Dr. Coleman said, leading you to the table which held the body with the sheet still over it. He let out a sigh, seeming pained to do this once more, your eyebrows shot up to see it was a man who appeared to be in mostly decent condition. The strange part of this came straight away with his stomach, it was as if he had stuffed himself full. And he did. “Lester Finch. Pulled his records. Looks like this gentleman used to weigh four hundred pounds or so, till he got a gastric bypass, which brought down his weight considerably.” You listened to what the doctor was saying, grabbing the files from his hand to look them over yourself. “But then for some reason, last night, he decided to on a twinkie binge.”  
“Wait, what?” You accidentally found yourself letting out a slight chuckle. But you quickly cleared your throat, managing to compose yourself so you wouldn’t appear insensitive. “So, he died from a twinkie binge?”  
“Well, after he blew out the band around his stomach, he filled it up till he burst. When he could no longer swallow, he started jamming the cakes down his gullet with a…with a toilet brush, like he was ramrodding a canon.” Dr. Coleman explained the gritty details that made you flinch at what the poor man had went through. You asked the doctor what he thought caused such a disastrous way to go. “I’d say that it was a very peculiar thing to do…”  
You nodded your head in agreement, that was, until you looked back at the doctor. You furrowed your brow when he decided to something strange himself that almost topped off the guy who would do anything to eat a sponge cake with a cream filling inside. Dr. Coleman took out a flask from his lab coat pocket and took a sip, having no shame in himself. You had a feeling that wasn’t water he was drinking. Well, as they say, it’s five o’clock somewhere in the world.  
You left Dr. Coleman to enjoy his booze when you gotten a whiff of his breath after you thanked him for letting you take a look at the man’s organs. You exited the building and out to the quiet city streets for this morning. Slipping your phone out of your pocket, you kept to yourself and slowed down your pace so you could punch in Sam’s number and tell him what you had found. It took a few rings before the man picked up.  
“So, I just got done checking out the body.” You said. “This guy was not marked by Cupid, but his death is definitely suspicious.”  
“Yeah. Dean and I just went through the police blotter, and counting him, that’s eight suicides since Wednesday and nineteen O.D.s—that’s way out of the seasonal average.” Sam said, finding all of this was much more bigger than what all of you had suspected. “If there’s a pattern here, it ain’t just love. It’s a hell of a lot bigger than we thought.”  
“All right, well, I’ll meet you guys back at the motel in about ten minutes.” You stopped in your tracks for a second so you could end the call. But it seemed that you were in the way for a fellow who was in a hurry. You felt someone roughly brush their shoulder against yours, making you stumble forward. You furrowed your brows in anger to see it was some guy dressed in a suit and carrying a briefcase. He was probably some prick who was late to a business meeting. You rolled your eyes and put your phone back into your pocket. Your hand accidentally brushed against the demon blade that was stuck in the waistband for safekeeping. And, just like that, it popped into your head like a normal thought.  
You could teach him a lesson. He seems like a dick, anyway. And the entire world is filled with men who are nothing more than scum on the bottom of your shoe. Is the world going to be any different without one less? Probably not.  
Where the hell was this coming from? You looked away from the man, trying your hardest not to keep your mind lingering on such an intrusive thought. But it seemed you found yourself looking away from anything, and back to the man. You’ve gotten away with murder before. Think of all those demons you’ve killed. They weren’t empty vessels, there were people in there. What’s stopping you now? Nothing, really. You tried your hardest to keep yourself in the direction of the motel, but it seemed your thoughts were controlling your footsteps, because before you knew it, you were following behind the man, straight into an alley. When it was just the two of you, you slipped a hand to your skirt, and pulled out the knife.  
The man continued on down his path through the alley, lost in his own thoughts, he would have never suspected what was about to happen next. You came out from nowhere and somehow overpowered him, slamming him up against the brick wall and placed the demon knife against the crook of his neck. He flinched at the feeling, but instead of being some old human, you noticed right away it was a demon from how his eyes changed to the color of black.   
“Thought I smelled something rotten.” You hissed at him. You didn’t waste a second when you lifted the knife away from his throat, only to slash his cheek, wanting to see him bleed for you. He let out a gasp of pain, but before he could react, you quickly resumed your position so he couldn’t do anything stupid. “Since when does a demon carry around a briefcase?”  
“To do this.”  
The demon took the arm holding the briefcase and roughly swung it, managing to hit you directly where it would hurt. You weren’t expecting the blow, causing you to lose your balance by a bit and accidentally let the knife slip out from your hand. While you managed to get yourself back together again, a sudden rush of adrenaline felt like your veins were on fire. But the demon was faster. You flinched when you felt the knife suddenly come out of nowhere, the demon made a quick and persuasive slip to your side, ripping through the fabric of your shirt and slicing at your skin, just enough to draw blood. You reacted by roughly charging forward and slamming him against the wall, the both of you struggled to get the knife out from his grip, but you won this time. You brought the knife up to stab him, but the demon defended himself by shielding his body, only letting you cut his arm as revenge.  
The demon used your distraction as a way to get himself out of this fight with nothing more than a flesh wound. He pushed you back just far enough for you to go tumbling down to the pavement. You landed on your hands and knees, making your palms and legs get skinned from the fall. You watched as the demon ran fast as he could, leaving his briefcase behind. Letting out a huff of breath in frustration, you dusted off the gravel that stuck into your skin and reached for the demon knife. You cleaned off the blood that was a mixture of your own and the demon’s on the fabric of your skirt.   
\+ + +  
You came back to the motel in a half an hour later. You stood outside of the boys’ motel room with the briefcase. But before you made your entrance, you made sure your story stuck with what you made up on the way back. You quickly untucked your shirt and messed up your hair, just enough to show of the struggle that you went through. When you thought it was decent enough, you huffed a few breaths to get your emotions flowing before you were pounding on the door. You impatiently waited until someone opened up the door. It took a few moments, when Sam opened it up, he noticed right away that something happened to you from how you paced back and forth.  
“Oh my God, Y/N.” Sam ushered you inside when you were on the near brink of tears and shut the door behind you. Dean leaned his head forward over to see what was going on. You painfully shrugged off your jacket and threw it to the ground after Sam took the briefcase you were holding. He looked to see that your knees were all scraped up and the wound you had endured left a large blood stain in your white button up shirt. It looked like you were in a fight. “What the hell happened to you?”  
"Are you all right?” Dean asked with concern when he took one look at your appearance which was far different from what he’d seen you last in. He lightly grabbed a hold of your chin to take inspection of the bruise that was starting to settle on your cheek after the demon whacked you with the briefcase. While you had scrapes and marks on your skin, it was the wound you gotten with the knife that made him become angry at what happened to you. “Who the hell did this, Y/N?”  
“I’m fine, really. He just caught me off guard.“ You managed to let a lie slip through your lips like it was nothing. You accidentally winced when Dean took the liberty to start gently lifting up your shirt just enough to inspect the damage. You lifted up your arm to see that part of your side was cut deep enough to draw some blood, maybe enough for some stitches. But you wouldn’t be able to tell until you cleaned the wound. "The demon got off worse than me.”  
"See? This is why I don’t want you—"  
"I’m very much capable of myself, Dean.“  
“Okay, okay. I’m not the one who’s running from the Devil.” Dean muttered underneath his breath, trying to calm you down before this could become into a full blown argument. He told his brother to get some towels from the bathroom and a few other supplies. When Sam didn’t respond, he rolled his eyes in annoyance. “What? Are you squeamish at the sight of blood all of a sudden?”  
Sam could smell it again. The strong odour that hit him straight where it would hurt, bringing a hunger that he thought had died long ago when Ruby did. It was demon blood. If this were a year ago and Ruby waved something like that in his face, Sam would have jumped on the opportunity to get a taste. But he knew better. The smell must be coming from the demon that you must have stabbed.   
"Sam!“ You snapped at the younger man, breaking him straight out of his personal thoughts. You stared at him with a cold and dark expression from his lack of attention that he was giving the situation.   
\+ + +  
“What the hell does a demon got to do with this, anyway?” Dean asked the both of you, but he just so happen to turn his head to look at you.  
“Does it look like I know everything, Einstein? I have no idea.” You found yourself answering him with a snappy tone. You crossed your arms over your chest and stared at the object with a bitter expression like you didn’t want to be here. The boys were taken back from your attitude that you couldn’t shake since coming back. Each of them looked at you with a concerned expression, which you brushed off with yet another eye roll. “Why don’t you ladies do yourselves a favor and open the damn thing. Let’s figure out what’s going on here.”  
The brothers listened to your snappy command, deciding that you were right about one thing. You watched as each of them crouched down on the ground so it’d be easier to unlock the briefcase. It took a minute to get the combination down right they could properly open it. You would have never expected for what happened next. A burst of light suddenly hit you directly in the eyes, catching you off guard, and forcing your hands to shield yourself from the blindness. It lasted for a few seconds, while it slowly began to fade, your eyes adjusted and looked back at the briefcase once more to see what could have caused such a dramatic scene. Whatever was inside there had just disappeared like that.  
“What the hell was that?” Dean asked, taken back from what just unfolded.  
“It’s a human soul.” You looked over your shoulder when a voice came from behind, it was Cas. He stood across the motel room after deciding to pop himself without an invitation. You looked at him with a bit of confusion to see that he must have been having some of the munchies from the fast food bag in one hand and a half eaten burger in the other. “It’s starting to make sense.”  
“Now, what about that makes sense?” Sam asked the angel.  
“And when did you start eating?” Dean wondered.  
“Exactly.” Cas said. “My hunger—it’s a clue, actually.”  
"For what?”  
"For what?“  
“Oh my God.” You muttered underneath your breath, suddenly becoming angered when the boys had accidentally spoken at the same time “Do you guys always have to do that?”  
“This town is not suffering from love-gone-wrong effect. It’s suffering from hunger.” Cas explained as he walked over to the three of you. “Starvation to be exact—specifically, famine.”  
“Famine? As in the horseman?” Sam asked, wanting to be clear of what could be going on here. The last one you had dealt with wasn’t so easy. “I thought famine meant starvation, like as in, you know, food.”  
“Yes. Absolutely. But not just food. I mean, everyone seems to be starving for something—sex, attention, drugs, love.” Cas gave just a few examples of what could have been causing this sort of behaviour. You and Sam slowly looked away, each of you wondering about yourselves. The hunger for blood, violence. This must explain your sudden not so nice and murder thoughts for everyone. Guess you never knew you were somehow starving for violence. Dean noted about the two couples who had murdered each other after being hit up with Cupid’s arrow. “Right. The cherub made them crave love, and then famine came and made them rabid for it.”  
“Okay, but what about you?” Dean asked. He gestured a hand at the angel when Cas took another bite of his hamburger when he wasn’t speaking. “I mean, since when do angels secretly hunger for White Castle?”  
“It’s my vessel—Jimmy. His, uh, appetite for red meat has been touched by famine’s effect.” Cas said. He tried his hardest not to indulge in the feeling, but he couldn’t help himself to take another bite.  
“So,” You tried to wrap your mind around what could be happening to everyone in this town, and your angel friend here who always had a strong will. “Famine just rolls into town, and everybody goes crazy?”  
“‘And then will come famine riding on a black steed. He will ride into the land of plenty, and great will be the horseman’s hunger, for he is hunger.’” Cas resisted a few not so pleasant words about the horseman himself, proving to be much worse than War. For you were only hurting not others, but yourself. “Famine’s hungry. He must devour the souls of his victims. Lucifer has sent his demons to care for famine, to feed him, make certain he’ll be ready.”  
“Ready for what?”  
“To march across the land.”  
\+ + +  
He felt like his entire body was on fire. He couldn’t hear anything but the sound of his own heartbeat pounding inside his ears like a drum. Each thump kept telling him to feed his desire. He wanted it. He needed it.  
Sam inhaled a deep breath as he stood in front of the motel bathroom sink with a clean washcloth he found and rank it under some cold water, hoping he could snap himself out of this before he would do something he would regret for the rest of his life. Sam placed a hand against the sink and leaned forward, shutting his eyes, he hoped this feeling would pass. While the three of you discussed the matters of what was going on in town, Sam took another deep breath, trying to get his own hunger to disappear. But he could smell it again, the iron rich taste that made his mouth water. Opening up one of his eyes, Sam spotted the bloodied towels from your wounds Dean used to clean up were lying on the ground. Just begging for him to get a taste…  
No, no, no. Sam forced the poisonous thought of his head and tried his hardest to concentrate on getting himself back to normal. Sam managed to try and calm himself down just a little bit. His eyes wandered to his reflection in the mirror to take a look at his complexion.   
“So, what,” You broke the man out of his concentration, making him realize what he was about to do. You crossed your arms over your chest, watching the angel on the bed take the final bites of his burger before coming to the heartbreaking conclusion he’d finished it. “This whole town is just gonna eat, drink and screw itself to death?”  
“We should stop it.” Cas said with a mouth full of food.  
“No, Cas. I think all of us should sit here, braid each other’s hair and tell our deepest secrets!“ You sarcastically suggested.  
“How’d you stop the last horseman you met?” Cas asked.  
Your face scrunched up slightly at the question as you looked over at the older Winchester, both of you trying to remember how you managed to stop the horseman. Dean walked over to a coat rack where he’d tossed his jacket, almost forgetting of what he’d been carrying around since then. “War got his mojo from this ring. And after Y/N cut it off, he just tucked tail and ran. And everybody that was affected, it was like they woke up out of a dream.” Dean said, showing off the simple gold band. “You think Famine’s got a class ring, too?”  
“I know he does.” Cas said with little no interest to the conversation anymore.   
“Well, okay. Let’s track him down and get to chopping.” Dean said, seeming this could be easy. He looked at the state of Cas, who was more wrapped up in this new obsession with his new taste for human food than stopping one of the horseman. “What are you, the Hamburglar?”  
“I’ve developed a taste for ground beef.” Cas said, noting his strange behavior.  
“Well, have you tried to stop it?”  
“I’m an angel. I can stop anytime I want.”  
Sam wished the words were true for himself. But he couldn’t stop the hunger that was clawing at his mind, demanding to be feed. While his brother called out his name to start wrapping up whatever he was doing in the bathroom, Sam let out a deep sigh, knowing he needed to be honest about this.  
“Dean, I, uh…I can’t. I can’t go.” Sam managed to say. He walked over to the bathroom door and leaned against the frame, digging in his nails, he tried his hardest to avoid any eye contact with you. “I think it got to me, Dean. I think I’m hungry for it…”  
Dean narrowed his eyes on his little brother, from what he was hinting at, “Hungry for what?”  
“It’s worse than before.” Sam admitted, hating himself for what he was about to say. Dean watched as his little brother slowly brought his gaze away from him, and to you, who had no idea what was going on. “I can smell it from here.”  
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Dean grunted underneath his breath, finding the compromise he was being put in was the hardest thing that he was facing right now. Dean looked over at the angel, hoping he could pull himself together just enough to keep his brother safe before the worst could happen. “You got to get him out of here. You got to beam him to, like, Montana.”  
“It won’t work.” Cas said, giving the man some unfortunate news. “He’s already infected. The hunger is just gonna travel with him.  
Dean huffed out a breath, wondering what the hell he was going to do with his brother who was craving some blood, He knew he couldn’t risk the chance of letting Sam alone. Sam knew the dangers of himself. “You got to cut that bastard’s finger off.” The younger Winchester said, thinking it was the most important thing right now. Once Famine was taken down, all of you would return back to normal. Dean wasn’t exactly happy with the idea, he didn’t want to leave his little brother alone like this. But desperate times call for desperate measures. “But guys, before you go, you better lock me down. And good.”  
There wasn’t much room for a discussion here of what to do. Dean fetched a pair of handcuffs from the duffel bag and locked up his little brother to the exposed piping beneath the sink. Sam didn’t protest with one single word, he just sat on the grimy bathroom floor and let his brother do what he needed. You stood in the doorway, watching this sight unfold.   
“All right, well, just hang in there.” Dean said. “We’ll be back as soon as we can.”  
“Be careful.” Sam warned his older brother of the dangers that were ahead for the three of them. “And hurry.”  
Dean patted his little brother on the shoulder, reassuring him that everything would be fine. He pushed himself to his feet and walked out of the bathroom, giving Sam one more look, he shut the door behind him. Cas did the honors of pushing the armoire across the floor like it was nothing, giving a bit more leverage for Sam to be locked up like a feral beast. While you snatched your coat from the bed, you were getting ready yourself to head out, but soon decided to do the opposite.  
“I think I should stay back, keep an eye on Sam.” You informed Dean and Cas. While Cas looked indifferent to your choice, Dean looked like he didn’t like the idea.  
“I see you’re taking on your role as his soulmate already. Never do us part is it?” he commented with not even a hint of joking.  
The way he’d been acting the whole day had been getting on your nerves but ever since you saw the cherub, it got worse, far from what you could handle and with no explanation why. But you understood there was no time to get into an argument with him right now when another horsemen was chomping on souls as you spoke, so you decided to ignore his comment all together and direct your attention to Cas.   
“I’m staying because I think Famine got to me as well… I’ve been having these violent thoughts lately and they only seem to be getting worse. I’d only get in your way.”  
“Y/N is right. We can’t risk the chance of letting her near Famine. She could grow worse.” Cas added.  
He shifted around in his spot to stare at the wall, his brain trying to wrack up a plan that could help stop this. Little brother was hungry for blood. You would do just about anything to make them bleed.  
“Great. This is just great.” Dean grunted underneath his breath. “So, what do we do with her?”  
The angel had thought of a plan. “we could lock her up like Sam. She’s still human, after all.”


	24. My Bloody Valentine part 3

Once more you tried again to tug on the handcuffs that Dean put on you for your own safety. You let out a scoff and moved your hand against one of the legs on the bed. Lucky for you, the man had a bit of a heart. Instead of throwing you into the bathroom like they’d done to Sam, you were sitting on the carpeted floor of the motel, one wrist was cuffed to the wooden leg of the bed as the other was free to do what you pleased. But it was for your own safety. You were danger to yourself and others.   
“I told you he was no good for you.”  
You rolled your eyes in frustration at the voice that came out from nowhere. The Devil on your shoulder. You knew it would be only a matter of time until he would come back along, wanting to kick you when you were down. Tugging on the handcuff, you let out a sharp sigh when they wouldn’t budge again. You looked away from the empty corner of the room to the full length mirror that was positioned just right to give you a reflection of yourself and the familiar face sitting on the edge of the bed. “What do you want?”  
“I get lonely on this cold, winter nights. I wanted to see you again.” Lucifer always had a way of getting under your skin. You flinched when he moved himself closer to you, wanting to make you uncomfortable as possible. “You’re coming along quite nicely, Y/N. Exactly how I thought Famine would make you. A femme fatale. Demanding to be broken loose and let to roam these streets, slaughtering the innocent…and not so innocent.”  
His words, in the tone of voice that he was using, It was like he was telling you he loved you, he wanted to give you everything you ever desired. You looked away from your reflection when you had a moment of clarity, suddenly realizing of what you were doing, of what you’ve been  
. Dean was right. This wasn’t you. This was what the Devil wanted you to be. You tried your hardest to cling onto this thought, but you found yourself being broken away when you felt a hand lightly grip your chin, forcing you to look at the thing who made you this way. His lips stretched into a faint smile as he began to slowly shake his head no.  
“You’re the one lying to yourself, not me.” Lucifer said, feeding you more things that you were trying to believe were lies. “And Sam…he needs you. He needs everything you can give him.”  
“I don’t know what you mean.”  
“I think you know exactly what I mean. Sam’s your soulmate, do you know why? Because he’s me… or will be soon enough. You belong with me and Sam is just a stepping stone to get there. After all, this is how it was always supposed to be.”  
Lucifer ran a finger down your arm that was chained to the bed. But with a simple tug, you were set free. You clutched your wrist and began rubbing at the spot that ached from tugging on it so hard. You didn’t flinch when you noticed footsteps arriving just outside of the motel room. Only he hadn’t been there at all. It was you who snapped those handcuffs like they were made of paper.  
You looked away from yourself in the mirror and to the motel room door that went swinging open after someone broke off the handle. But you didn’t move. You watched as two demons took the liberty to step inside the room, smirking to themselves at the sheer pleasure of seeing their job being cut easy for them. You stood up from your spot, knowing you might not have the demon knife with you or anything to really protect yourself from them. But you weren’t scared of them. They should’ve been scared of you.  
\+ + +  
Sam couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to get free for his own sanity. He struggled to get himself free from the handcuffs by trying to get the pipe loose, thinking that could be at least a start here. But the only thing Sam was doing was wasting his precious energy. The air was thick of that iron rich smell, it was almost too powerful. It wrapped around his throat and squeezed, making him choke on it. Sam could feel himself grow even more rabid for it. As he tried to tug on the pipe one more time, the man stopped, hearing the sounds of the armoire scrap against the floors again.  
“Guys, what happened? I don’t think it worked.” Sam thought it was Dean and Cas standing from behind the door. The smell of blood was getting stronger, he thought it was all in his head. “I think I’m still—” Who opened the door wasn’t someone he was expecting. He could feel his mouth drop slightly, suddenly realizing where the smell was coming from. He wasn’t going crazy. You stood in the doorway, covered head and toe in blood, you stared at him with a comforting smile. He backed away from you, trying his hardest to control himself. “…Still hungry.”  
“I know. That’s why I’m here.” You said. Sam watched as you walked over to him, and as if you didn’t know the consequences of your actions, easily snapped off his handcuffs like you had done for yourself. Sam should have questioned your sudden strength. He tried his hardest to warn you that you needed to stay away from him for your own safety. But you didn’t listen. Instead, you slipped a hand into your back pocket, pulling out a switchblade. You dragged the bodies of one of the demons that were now badly injured and put out its wrist. With a simple swipe of the knife, Sam’s mouth watered as a small amount of blood began to rise to the surface. You gave him another smile as you brought your wrist to his awaiting mouth. “Don’t be afraid, Sammy. I know you want to. Do it.”  
Sam should have listened to what little conscious he had left. He knew the consequences if he let himself have one little taste. But he found himself hypnotized at the sight of blood slowly dripping from the wound, going wasted to the floor. And without an ounce of remorse, Sam roughly snatched the wrist, bringing it to his lips and sucked the blood from the body. He closed his eyes, feeling a wave of euphoria hit him, a high like he’d never experienced before. You had two demons waiting to be sucked dry for him. He needed to be strong for what the both of you were about to do.  
\+ + +  
You might have been going crazy, but you were still a hunter. You knew that Famine needed to be taken down. That was the only real logical thought in your head over the past few hours. All you knew that someone was going to die. Nobody was going to stand in your way. No demon, little horseman, angel or hunter. It was almost too easy to find out where Famine would be. You took down the demons that were standing in your way after getting the answers out of the ones that thought it would have been a good idea to show up at your motel. The horseman was hiding out in some all you can eat buffet, the breeding ground for human desire. But the most pathetic thing of them all was Cas, the angel who thought he had strong will, was reduced to an animal who tried craving his hunger for meat by shoving raw meat into his face, the demon knife laid just a foot away from him. Dean, who had had almost no effect, wasn’t so high and mighty when he found himself caught by a couple of demons.  
Someone could tell you all they wanted about how Dean was going to hurt you in the end. But he didn’t show you that. Part of your humanity was still in tact, what little remained that could speak through your hunger, knew he locked you up for your own safety. But you were stronger now, you were thinking more clearly. He needed you, and you needed him right.   
“Let him go.”  
War, the horseman, posed himself as an everyday man so he could see the action himself unfold into chaos. Famine, he posed himself as a feeble, old man who was bound to a motorized wheelchair. From the looks of it, he couldn’t take care of himself, too weak to get his own souls to feed off of. He had endless demons to wait on him hand and foot because he loved the power, the endless attention being drawn on him. He wanted people to hunt and kill for him. He wanted to see humanity crumble to his feet and die from their own secret desires. Famine turned around in his wheelchair when he heard your voice. But you weren’t alone. Dean looked away from the horseman to see a sight that wasn’t good. He felt his heart drop into the lowest pit of his stomach.   
You stood in front of them with clothes soaked in blood, and your knuckles were severely torn up and bruised. His brother stood behind you, his mouth was covered in blood. If he knew any better, the man was hyped up on blood, copious amounts that satisfied his hunger just a little bit. Yet it would only be a matter of time until he wanted more. More and more until he turned into a demon. Just like before.  
“Stop!” Famine cried out, hauling his demons that were about ready to attack. You narrowed your eyes slightly, waiting for them to move, only to end up like their other friends. The horseman stared at you and Sam with such magnificence, like he was honored to meet the both of you. “No one lays a finger on these sweet kids. Y/N, I see you got the present I sent you.”  
“You sent them?” You asked, a bit confused as to why.  
“Y/N, you are growing stronger each day. And Sam, you’re not like everybody else. You’ll never die from drinking too much. Both of you are the exception to the rules. Just the way Satan wanted you to be. So…cut their throats. Have at them!”  
A few hours ago, Sam would have done anything to drain all these demons dry. But he had his fill. With his head on straight, the man decided to pull out an old trick that he hadn’t done in a long time. Sam, with almost no effort, exorcised the demon straight out of their human bodies with no strain. He didn’t know why, but he felt stronger than ever, in complete control with a clear mind. Dean, however, found this entire situation a growing nightmare with each passing second. Sam opened his eyes, and with a defiant smirk on his blood stained lips, he told the horseman no. Like he was any better than him right now.  
“Well, fine. If you don’t want them….then I’ll have them.” Famine said. You watched as the puffs of black smoke that were lingering across the floor soon went straight into the horseman’s awaiting mouth, feeding his desires that would never be met. You furrowed your brow at how easily they just slid down, just like that. Dean stood with the demon knife tight in his grip, but that wasn’t needed. Sam thought he would be strong enough to take Famine down with his special abilities that hadn’t failed him yet. Famine stared at the man with a smile, showing off his rotten teeth as he let out a horse laugh. “I’m a horseman, Sam. Your power doesn’t work on me.”  
“You’re right.” Sam agreed. “But it will work on them.”  
Sam’s intentions weren’t on the horseman’s soul, but the demons and humans Famine ingested over the past several days, he was using the horseman’s weakness against him. The younger man used every single strength he had to pull the demons out from the feeble body. He pushed himself and watched as the puffs of smoke began to escape from Famine, and suddenly, the horseman was reduced to an empty meat suit. And just like that, everyone snapped back to normal.  
Cas found himself crouched down on the ground, his hands covered in raw meat. Sam didn’t feel the hunger raging in his head anymore, he felt satisfied. And you, you felt like someone had hit you with a ton of bricks. You looked down at yourself to see what you caused. You slowly lifted up your hands to see why they felt like they were such in so much pain. That’s when you noticed how bruised and torn up your knuckles were. How much blood was on you. A flash of what you done crossed your mind for a few moments. You slowly looked away from the mess and to the scenery around you. You blinked a few times, suddenly wondering why everything was spinning so fast around you and why you felt so lightheaded. As you took a step forward, it was your only one, until you felt yourself go crashing forward, and losing consciousness before your body even hit the ground.  
\+ + +  
You didn’t know where you were for a split second. As you slowly came back into consciousness, your entire body felt like someone threw you off a building. Your muscles haven’t ached this bad in a long time, and when you tried stretching out your fingers, you were suddenly hit with an overwhelming amount of pain, making you regret the move. It hurt when you tried to move on your side, and your wrist felt like someone broke it. You kept your eyes closed, not only did you start to psychically hurt, but your mind suddenly came flooding back with all these images of things that you had dreamed about while you were passed out. Horrible things that you hoped were just a nightmare created by the figment of your creative imagination. Ever so cautiously, you opened up one eye to inspect the damage of what you’ve done to yourself.  
Your knuckles were the first thing you took notice of; they were severely bruised and bits of skin were torn. Someone tried their hardest to clean them best as they could, but they felt raw, like you fought someone. One wrist was bandaged up and the other had a strange bruise around it, you knew where both of them had come from. You looked away from the self inflicted wounds to the room you had been lying in. The familiar sight brought a sense of safety over you when you realized that you were at Bobby’s, lying in that ratty couch of his you always crashed on while the boys took the floor. You had managed to push yourself up into a sitting position, but the action caused you to not forget the gash on your side. You winced in pain as you leaned back in your seat, suddenly feeling out of breath from the excruciating psychical movement you put yourself through. For a second you tried to figure out what was going on, presuming all those memories that were cluttering your head were just fictional.  
You couldn’t have done all those horrible, terrible things. Why would you attack a random stranger on the street because they bumped into you? And it didn’t make it better that it happened to have been a demon. And you faking everything. But you knew that wasn’t the worst of it. Your eyes glanced down to the bruised and bloody knuckles. All the blood that stained your clothes, the things you did to those people…Then what you allowed Sam to do. You wanted, hoped…prayed that, out of anything you did, that was just a dream. There was no way you could have done that to him.  
The pleads and shouting you heard coming from the basement told a different story. It told the truth.  
Funny thing…Lucifer only came to you when you were sleeping, He didn’t have the ability to pop up whenever he desired. Maybe you hallucinated the entire thing.   
Footsteps coming up from the basements stairs made you flinch, knowing well enough of who it was going to be. You watched as Dean came up from hearing his brother go through withdrawal. It was painful the first time, but this…this was the real deal. All of you had to endure the entire process through. Withdrawing from demon blood can be nasty. Sam had to go through all the dizzy spells, hot flashes and chills, even those nasty little hallucination that crossed the poor man’s mind. All of this was happening because of you. You did it to him.  
Dean passed by the library. While you felt tempted to call out to him and apologize, the words remained at the tip of your tongue. They felt so wrong to say right “Sorry.” Sorry for what? Sorry for making your baby brother relapse. Sorry for crushing all your hopes for a better tomorrow. Sorry, to fail you miserably. Again.  
“You look better.” You found yourself jumping out of your skin at the sound of a voice that broke you out of your personal thoughts. You looked away from the floor and to the doorway. The heaviness sitting in your chest only becomes worse when you see that it’s Dean. You notice right away he was still in his clothes, a half empty liquor bottle hung loose in his grip as he leaned against the door frame. You kept yourself quiet, afraid you might say the wrong thing. But Dean keeps talking, wanting only to keep himself occupied. “You’ve been in and out for the past few days. You had too many injuries. Cas said you should be okay.”  
“Dean,” You couldn’t help yourself when you went out right with it, the guilt too much for you to bare anymore. “I’m so sor—”  
“It wasn’t your fault, Y/N.” Dean cut you off, saying four words that didn’t make you feel any better. You stared at him with eyes glazed over as a hardening expression set across your face, wondering why he was doing this. He acted like this was his doing. “I failed you and Sammy. Like I always do. Maybe that son of a bitch is right.”  
Dean left you alone with your own personal thoughts. He mumbled something about needing some air from everything that was going on. Maybe Famine was right when he said he was dead inside. He was, for a while. Dean felt a comfort with things. He didn’t need his usual crutches to get him through the day. There were no thoughts crushing him. He felt nothing. Until…that night in the diner when he’d seen the truth.  
That was his moment of facing the future straight in the eyes. There was no more running, no more denying. All of it was possibility.  
The man walked through the junkyard with his thoughts and a half empty liquor bottle as his only company. For the first time in his life, Dean Winchester felt lost. He didn’t know what to do anymore. He couldn’t keep the people he loved, his only family, safe anymore. Dean was at a crossroads when he thought about you.   
He's always been the kind of person who trusts last, and so he’d been with you. But after seeing himself react the way he did, when he found out that you and Sam were soulmates? He couldn’t deny it anymore. He couldn’t hide from it or disguise it in a end-of-the-world speech. Truth was, he was furious at this revelation because somewhere inside him, he wanted it to be his fate that was destined with yours. Of course, he’d never say it out loud, now more than ever, but today made him confront him about it. He couldn’t pretend the feelings didn’t exist anymore… but it’s not like there was appoint to it.  
That wasn’t even the worst of it. His brother, his baby brother who he had practically raised, who always tried to do good and see things in a better light, might die at the hands of him. Because it was the right thing to do. Because it was what God commanded. Fathers are supposed to know what’s best. How was any of this right? How could God sit back and watch this happen?  
He wants to feel numb. He wants to be dead inside. But he can’t. Not anymore. Not after what he’d seen.  
Dean found himself stopping in his tracks near the Impala. The keys felt heavy in his back pocket as the idea of running from his problems crossed his mind. But he knew that there wasn’t enough space in this world to distant him from everything. Dean looked down at the bottle, contemplating if he should take another drink, he decided against it, knowing his old vices wouldn’t help him tonight. He poked his tongue between his teeth as his eyes glanced up to the cloudy night sky.  
He couldn’t keep it together anymore. He could feel tears starting to fill his eyes as he stared off into the miles above him, hoping that this little human, the one who was just a vessel for His son, would take the chance just to listen. Just for one simple second.  
“Please…I can’t,” Dean found himself flooded with all his fears and anxiety just like that. The wall inside his went crumbling down, presenting himself fully to the big man upstairs. People say that God gives one that they can handle. And in times of distress, pray. “I can’t do this. Please.”


	25. Point of No Return part 1

{PS: I will be listing the skipped episodes in the beginning from now on so that its easier to follow the story and you don’t have to google the episode summary to see what was that episode about.}  
Skipped episodes:  
5x15- Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid (dead people start coming back in Souix Fall, along with Jody’s kid and Bobby’s wife)  
5x16- Dark Side of the Moon (Angry hunters kill the Winchesters and the reader, where they meet Joshua who tells them to stop looking for God.)  
5x17- 99 Problems (The boys and the reader encounter The Whore of Babylon)

Home is where the heart is. You called some little hotel at least a few dozen states away from where you last ended up as the place where you would rest your head for now. It was a fairly small town that barely had any books in their library that weren’t religious or some crappy book that they decided was pure enough for them to read.   
You would be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t actually just doing anything in your power to not think about one specific Winchester. The one who decided to apparently say yes to Michael therefore basically decided to kill himself and had whole farewell tour along with heartfelt letters addressed to his brother, Bobby and one even for Cas. But guess who he conveniently left off that list? Ans that’s okay, it’s not like you wanted a whole heartfelt paragraph but a small ‘Goodbye, Y/N’ would’ve been better than nothing.  
\---------------  
“H—How did you find me?” Dean managed to form a question as he blinked, a bit taken back from how quick Sam managed to track him down so quickly.  
“You’re gonna kill yourself, right?” Sam asked. He wasn’t there to see how things were going, he wanted to drag Dean back home. He watched as Sam pulled something out from his pocket jacket and threw it to the desk. It was the letter that Dean had wrote for him. It seemed that wasn’t enough to keep him satisfied. “In case you were wondering why Y/N isn’t here with me, not that those of us who did get a letter were buying the bullshit anyway.”  
“Yeah well,” Dean spoke without anything to add after that.  
“Just please, not now. Bobby and Y/N are working on something.”  
“Oh really? What?” Dean countered and didn’t wait for an answer, “You got nothing and you know it.”  
“You know I have to stop you right?”  
Dean took a small swig of his drink, “Yeah well, you can try.”  
“And also, I brought help.”  
Dean furrowed his brow slightly from what the younger Winchester said, wondering for a moment about what he meant by that. But the sound of fluttering wings behind him, meaning only one thing. He slowly looked over his shoulder to see Cas, was standing right behind him. Dean opened his mouth to speak but before he could, the angel put his index finger on his forehead, sending the two of them far away from the hotel.  
\+ + +  
Dean sat on the cot with his back pressed against the wall and his arms crossed over his chest, staying completely silent after being brought back from Bobby’s against his will.   
“Yeah, no, this is good, really. Eight months of turned pages and screwed pooches, but tonight— tonight’s when the magic happens.” Dean paced back and forth around the room, making his frustrations clear to everyone who was trying to block his pessimistic attitude out.   
You heard his voice as you entered the room, instantly annoyed by his presence. “Look at what the cat dragged in.” you commented on him as you walked over to a chair near the table and sat yourself down.  
“It was Cas actually, but same difference.” Dean retorted to your comment, thinking he could humour you into a better mood.  
Bobby and Sam sat at his desk to look over some books as Cas leaned against the wall, his eyes narrowed on the oldest Winchester. Bobby tried to get the man to calm down as Dean decided to stop pacing for a moment and lean himself against the wall right across from where you were sitting. "If you don’t want me around, why don’t you let me get out of your hair, then?”  
Bobby tried his hardest to ignore the oldest Winchester’s behaviour. But he thought the young man was only acting like a fool for how he was treating everyone. He tossed the newspaper article he had been reading to the desk and looked at Dean, “What the hell happened to you?”  
“Reality happened.” Dean answered the man with a sharp tone. “Nuclear’s the only option we have left. Michael can ice the Devil, save a boatload of people.”  
“But not all of them.” Bobby pointed out the small fact that the young man seemed to have forgotten about in his selfish way of thinking. “We got to think of something else.”  
“Yeah, well, that’s easy for you to say,” The oldest Winchester muttered, brushing off Bobby’s words that were supposed to be supportive. “But if Lucifer burns this mother down and I could have done something about it, guess what—that’s on me.”  
Silence filled the room after what Dean had said. He knew what would happen if he continued to say no to Michael.   
“You can’t give up so easily, son.”  
“You’re not my father.” Dean responded to the man’s words with a few that were the worst of all that he could ever speak. You looked at him with an astonishment form what he had done. But the oldest Winchester seemed to have no remorse. “And you ain’t in my shoes.”  
Bobby had done a lot for the three of you. He’d been there since the brothers were kids and tried to give them at least a little bit of normalcy when John dropped them off for a hunt. He had been there when you were just starting out as a hunter, young and stupid and filled with rage. He had been there when Sam was strung out of demon blood and had no idea of what to do. Bobby was still here at the result of being paralyzed from the waist down after being possessed by a demon. And he was still here, trying to find a way to stop the apocalypse that the three of you had caused which each step that you took.   
You looked over to the desk when you heard something heavy land on top of an open book that Bobby had next to him. The man pulled out a revolver from a drawer and placed it for everyone to see. He then took a bullet from the pocket of his flannel shirt and made sure Dean could see it clearly. Dean asked him what that was for.  
“That’s the round I mean to put through my skull. Every morning, I look at it, and I think…‘Maybe today’s the day I flip the lights out.’ But I don’t do it. I never do it. You know why?” Bobby asked the younger man. But he didn’t wait for him to answer, he wanted to be the one to tell him as his tone matched his anger from how he felt. “Because I promised you I wouldn’t give up!”  
Dean was stricken silent from the words that he heard. Out of anyone in this room that was a risk of taking the swan dive, it was Bobby. He had been vocal about ending his own life, thinking he couldn’t be a hunter with no working legs. But the man carried on to this very day because he knew it wasn’t worth it, his actions would deeply affect you and the brothers. You found yourself staring at the bullet Bobby had placed down on the table.   
You were torn away from your personal thoughts when Cas suddenly was stricken down with a headache. Your face scrunched in concern as you watched the angel clutched his head and groaned quietly in pain. All of you stared at him, not sure what was going on.  
“Cas, you okay?” You asked him with concern. The angel shook his head no as the pain seem to have gotten worse for a moment or so longer before he tried to return back to normal. “What’s wrong?”  
“Something’s happening.” Cas whispered.  
Dean tried to ask the angel where it was, but before he could get an answer, Cas left in a hurry, a burst of wind followed behind as a few papers slowly drifted into the air before falling to the ground. You stared at the spot where Cas had been previously staring at, wondering yourself of what was going on.  
\+ + +  
Cas was gone for what felt like forever. You spent the time in the kitchen with your nose buried in a book that you had spotted buried underneath a few others on his desk. While you kept yourself occupied for the time being, your mind kept wandering back to what was going on with the angel.   
“Boys! Y/N!”  
You pushed yourself up from your chair and shut the book you were reading to follow behind the brothers to see what was going on. Stepping back into the library, you noticed right away that Cas had come back with some luggage with an unconscious body lying over his shoulder. You could feel your heartbeat starting to pound harder in your chest when he tossed him down to the cot and stepped away to let you see who it was. It was a young face that you had seen only once before, but it was the kind of face that made your mouth part open slightly. He was dirty and didn’t move a muscle, but Adam Milligan was the boy who had been brought back from the dead.   
“Who is it?” Bobby asked as he wheeled himself over to the bed.  
“That’s our brother.” Sam answered with a quiet voice.  
Bobby was confused himself at seeing the young man in the flesh again after hearing about the first encounter that didn’t end well. The one you had met was of a ghoul who had killed him and took his form as some revenge. Dean looked over at Cas, wondering himself of what the hell was going on here. Cas placed down two blades that were meant to kill only angels, he didn’t have any helpful answers, but he knew one thing was for sure. The kid was a red flag for his fellow brothers and sisters who would be searching for Adam soon as they realized he was missing from his grave where he crawled out from.  
“I know one thing for sure.” Cas said. “We need to hide him now.”  
Cas placed a hand on Adam’s chest and used the same trick like had on you and the boys by carving in some enochian sigils into the man’s ribcage. The feeling of an unknown force burning into his bones made Adam wake up from his long sleep. He inhaled a deep breath as his eyes shot wide open. The young man was quick to sit himself up on the bed when he took notice of Bobby, a man he had never seen before. He stared at the five of you with almost a panicked expression as he began asking of where he was.  
“It’s okay. Just relax.” Sam reassured him with a calm tone. “You’re safe.”  
“Who the hell are you?” Adam asked.  
“You’re gonna find this a little—a lot crazy,” Dean corrected himself at what he was about to say to the man. “But we’re actually your brothers.”  
“It’s the truth. John Winchester was our father, too.” Sam said, backing up with what his brother had mentioned as he tried to introduce himself. “See, I’m Sam—”  
“Yeah, and I’m sure that’s Dean. And you’re Y/N. They warned me about you.” Adam said. His gaze turned away from the boys to you from what spoke of last. “Now, where the hell is Zachariah?!”  
\+ + +  
Adam had returned back from the bathroom in some new clothes when he cleaned himself up from being pulled out of the ground. He fixed himself a drink after being offered by Dean and headed for the cot again, deciding if they were going to get any sort of answers, the young man would do it. YDean pulled up a chair so he was now sitting on it backwards as Sam leaned himself against the desk and Cas remained at his spot previously.   
“So, why don’t you just tell us everything?” Dean asked the younger man, eager to hear what he had to say. “Start from the beginning”  
“Well, I was dead and in Heaven…” Adam began, painting a picture that was easy to believe as he started to describe what his personal afterlife was like with a bit more vivid details that you particularly could have done without. “…Except it—it, uh, kind of looked like my prom. And I was making out with this girl. Her name was Kristin McGee.”  
“Yeah, that sounds like Heaven.” Dean said. His lips stretched into a smirk “Did you get to third base?”  
Sam cleared his throat as his eyes shifted to his older brother for a second from how he was losing focusing on the point of this conversation. “Just, uh…just keep going.”  
“Well, these angels, they popped out of nowhere, and they tell me I’m chosen.” Adam explained to the younger man. “To save the world.”  
“How are you gonna do that?” Dean asked.  
“Oh, me and some archangel named Michael are gonna kill the Devil. I’m his sword or vessel or something.” Adam said, his tone casual as if this topic was like discussing the weather.   
Dean chuckled at what he was hearing, “Well, that’s insane.”  
“Not necessarily.” Cas said. The angel began to think about how this could work and what sort of benefit could come of this from the plan. “Maybe they’re moving on from you. He’s John Winchester’s bloodline, It’s not perfect, but it’s possible.”  
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Dean grumbled underneath his breath.  
“Cas, do you really think they’ll do it?”  
The angel shrugged his shoulders, “Maybe they’re desperate.”  
“After everything’s that happened. All that crap about density, suddenly the angels have a Plan ‘B’?” Sam asked.   
“You know, this has been a really moving family reunion, but, uh, I got a thing, so—”  
“Sit your ass down.” You ordered to the younger man with an eye roll. “The angels are lying to you. They’re full of crap. There’s got to be some other reason why they’re doing this.”  
“Yeah. I don’t think so.” Adam disagreed with the plan. Sam scoffed as he asked him why that could be. “Uh, because they’re angels.”  
“They tell you they were gonna roast half the planet?” Sam asked, wanting to make sure the kid knew well enough of what he was about to get himself into.  
“They said the fight might get pretty hairy, but it is the Devil and his freak Anchor, right? We got to stop them.” Adam said. He nodded his head at you, with a sarcastic tone, he tried not to make his jab at you not as intention. “No offense.”  
“Oh, angels told you about me too, great. None taken, by the way. Besides, it won’t be long until you’re dead. Again.” You said. “There’s another way, buddy. You’re not gonna fight.”  
“Great.” Adam replied as he slapped his thighs with his palms. “You gonna tell us what it is?”  
“Well, we’re working on the power of love.” Dean answered before you could. You narrowed your eyes on him from his response when Adam asked how it was going. “Not so good.”  
“Look, Adam,” Sam threw his older brother a dirty look from the rude remarks that didn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon. “You don’t know me from a hole in the wall, I know, but I’m begging you. Please, just trust me. Give me some time.”  
“Give me one good reason.” Adam said.  
Sam let out a sigh, he tried to wrack his brain for any sort of response that was good enough for a man that he never really met until today. He went for something that was bold, but true. “Because we’re blood.”  
Adam didn’t seem to like that response, “You got no right to say that to me.”  
“You’re still John Winchester’s kid.” Bobby said.  
“No, John Winchester was some guy who took me to a baseball game once a year. I didn’t have a dad.” Adam corrected the older hunter. He looked at the brothers and you, wanting to make one thing clear. “So, we may be blood, but we are not family. My mom is my family, and if I do my job, I get to see her again. So, no offense, but she’s the one who I give a rat’s ass about, not you.”  
“Fair enough.” Sam agreed. “But if you have one good memory of Dad—just one—then you’ll give us a little more time. Please.”  
Adam fell silent from the pleading that was coming from his older brother that had never met before until today. He looked at the five of you, just a bunch of strangers that were standing in his way to getting what he really wanted, but for some reason, he agreed.


	26. Point of No Return part 2

While Adam was being kept an eye on by Bobby, Dean circled the panic room, as if he was going to find a way out of here and make his grand escape. This place was a fortress. Walls made of iron and salt, the door locked from the outside, making Dean a prisoner for however long they were going to keep him here. But it seemed he had company. He turned his head to the door as he watched it slowly open. You and Sam stood on the outside to talk. But from the look on your face, you were unwillingly a participant in this.  
"Well, sweetheart, not for nothing,” Dean said, deciding to make a move on you, despite the tension. “But the last time someone looked at me like that…I got laid.”  
“Told you I don’t wanna do this, Sam. Bye.” You said to sam, before making him enter alone and not even making eye contact with Dean as you waited.  
You looked over at the oldest Winchester for a second, he gave you a wink for your remark to push things further along.   
You reached to close the heavy iron door, leaving the brothers alone for a moment in the panic room. You were about to turn back and given them some privacy, but you found yourself staying back, curious to see what he wanted to speak about.  
“Is this really necessary?” Dean asked, gesturing to the panic room that was a bit of an overkill for the man.  
“Well, I mean, we got a hands full, Dean—a houseful of flight risks.” Sam chuckled out, obviously not liking how the situation had unfolded. Dean shook his head as he mentioned something about not letting them do it, the younger Winchester had an assumption for what he was trying to say. “Who, Adam? No, I’m not, either. We’ll find a way to stop it.”  
“No, you’re not getting me.” Dean said.   
“Oh, no, no, I ‘get’ you perfectly. You wanna make sure we’re safe. I want that, too. He won’t do it. Neither of us will.” Sam said, agreeing with his brother on that point. “But I’m not letting you do it, either.”  
You heard a silence fall between the brothers, “That kid’s not taking a bullet for me. And there’s no way in hell Y/N’s throwing herself to the wolves either.” Dean said with a matter of fact voice. Sam spoke his older brother’s name, but the man cut him off. “I mean, think about how many people we’ve gotten killed, Sam. Mom, Dad, Y/N’s parents, Jonathan, Kate, Jess, Jo, Ellen. Should I keep going?”  
“It’s not like we pulled the trigger.” Sam said, as if that argument would be strong enough to validate the lives they had lost over the past few years.  
“We might as well have. And to mention the things Y/N did alone to save us. That’s not fair.” Dean said. You could hear just in his voice of how much sadness he was carrying around from the things that he had done in his past that he could never change. He wanted to only help, but the man seemed to only give pain to the people he loved. “I’m tired, man. I’m tired of fighting who I’m supposed to be.”  
“Funny, you should say that. You wanna tell me what the hell happened?” Sam wasn’t falling for his brother’s depression as he tried to get to the bottom of what was going on. Dean remained silent. “Do you think maybe you could take a half a second and stop trying to sacrifice yourself for a change?”  
“I don’t think so.” Dean muttered.  
“Why not?” Sam questioned his older brother, trying to find a straightforward answer. “Dean, seriously. Tell me. I wanna know.”  
“I don’t believe…in you. Or the three of us.” Dean admitted what had been bothering him for all these long days. You pressed your ear closer against the iron, Sam wasn’t the only one who was taken back from the answer. “I don’t know whether it’s gonna be demon blood or some other demon chick or what, but…I do know they’re gonna find a way to turn you.”  
“So, you’re saying I’m not strong enough.” Sam said, wondering if that’s what he meant. “I’m not gonna fall for whatever they throw my way.”  
“You don’t know that. Remember demon blood? Let alone whatever the hell Y/N is going through that made her feed you demons?”  
“That was different, Dean.” Sam tried to defend himself at the harsh accusation being thrown against him. “It was famine that got me thinking that that way. I’m clean now.”  
“You say that, but I can’t trust you anymore. Not after Ruby, and going behind my back and starting this whole mess.” Dean said. He shifted the blame now on his little brother. It was either your or his fault, never would he admit himself that he was the one who had pushed the first domino. “You’re angry, you’re self-righteous. Lucifer’s gonna wear you to the prom, man. It’s just a matter of time until we do exactly what those sons of bitches want. If it’s not the blood, then it’s gonna be something else. There’s no other way around it, man. You know it.”  
“Don’t say that to me.” Sam hissed at his brother. He shook his head as he tried his hardest not to let his emotions the best of him. “Out of anyone…not you. We need you. I didn’t know any better. None of us do!”  
“When Satan takes you over, there’s got to be somebody there to fight him, and it ain’t gonna be that kid. We don’t have any options to ice the Devil, so it’s got to be me. I have to be the one who saves this family.”  
You stepped away from the door after listening to what Dean had said, suddenly overcome with several different emotions that you weren’t sure which one was the right one to respond with. You managed to race up the basement stairs and back to the first floor of the house without Sam catching you.   
\-------  
While Adam was sound asleep on the cot, Cas peered inside the house to see Sam was occupied with getting himself a drink in the kitchen as Bobby sat at his desk once more, both of them were distracted. Cas walked forward to the basement doorway and headed downstairs. He quietly approached the panic room, deciding it would be best to have a talk with Dean. If anyone could talk some sense in the man, Cas might be lucky. As the angel approached the last step, his attention was quickly brought over to the iron door when he heard a crashing sound coming from inside the panic room.  
Cas called out the oldest Winchester’s name as he walked forward with caution, wondering if this was some kind of trick, or he was hurt. He peered into the small slit in the door and peered into the room. The angel noticed the table was knocked over and a light bulb was broken, leaving fragments of broken glass. Cas did what he thought was right, he unlocked the door and stepped inside, wanting to make sure the man was okay.  
The angel glanced around the room, wondering where Dean was, but when he spotted him next to the closet door with it open, blood smeared on the mental with a sigil that was all too familiar for Cas, he knew what this was. It was a trap. Cas tried to warn the man not to do this, but before he could, Dean pressed his hand against the door, a sudden burst of light made him shut his eyes for a moment before it faded. When it did, the oldest Winchester noticed that it worked, Cas was blown to somewhere else. He didn’t really care. There were precious moments he had before someone noticed what he was doing.  
Dean cautiously stepped out from the panic room and walked over to a rack that he tossed a coat of his after getting down here. He grabbed it and put it on, knowing it was chilly out there. As he slipped out his keys, Dean waited a moment to see if anyone had noticed what he’d done, all he had gotten was pure silence. The man walked to the small staircase that lead out to the backyard of the house.   
He quickly walked over to the main streets and found a church man on the side of the road, preaching the words of the angels.   
“Angels speak to me.” The man announced, trying to get the attention of anyone who would listen. Dean walked up to the man without wasting any time.   
“I’m Dean Winchester, do you know who I am?”  
The man only replied in a frantic yes nod.   
“Good, tell the angels I’m here. Now.” Dean commanded the man and he instantly got on his knees and started praying out loud.  
“Oh Thee who art in heaven, hear m—” Before he could complete that word, his body went flying down to the ground from the impact of the punch that was just thrown directly at his face.   
Dean’s eyes went wide in surprise as he raised his eyes to see who the hand that punched the man belonged to.  
“You pray too loud.” You commented, as your hand retreated back with a stinging pain.   
“What are you—”  
“What am I doing here?” you completed Dean’s question. “I followed you.”   
Dean opened his mouth to speak back but before he could, a slap landed on his cheek. In an instant rage, Dean held you on both sides by your shoulder and pushed you against the brick walls of the narrow alley behind where you were standing.   
“What the hell?” he grunted.  
“Exactly. What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you retorted.  
“The right thing for once in my life!” he answered, as he gave a slight last push before loosening his grip on you but as soon as he did, you kneed him in the stomach and he instantly doubled up in pain.  
“The right thing? Is that you’re telling yourself!” you raised your arm to him again, but before you could, he stopped it mid-air. You tried to get your arm out of his grip but it only pushed your face closer to his. “What didn’t we do, Dean? Hmm? You’re the one who told me we had a freaking choice! You said, screw heaven and hell and I believed you! Hell, we all did. Cas fell for you, he rebelled for you! We did it all for you!” At this point, there were tears forming in your eyes from the pain it was causing you to see him like this but the anger you felt from seeing him lose faith was far greater than any pain you could feel. While he still held your arm, you raised the other one and punched him as hard as you could. You were sure this would give him a blue eye for at least a week but you didn’t care. “You don’t believe in us. Not me, Cas or even your own brother!”   
Dean had recoiled from your last punch and as soon as he had, you threw another one his way which landed even harder than the last one. And that’s when you realised. “Why aren’t you fighting back?” you asked, through the tears, in a lower voice than before. Him not fighting back further fueled your anger.   
“Fight back.” You commanded, shoving him slightly at his chest, “I said, Fight back!” You shoved him again, harder this time, making his back hit the brick wall. He stumbled and his knees hit the ground, as his back was supported by the wall.   
You didn’t know what happened, but your anger had disappeared. Your legs gave out and you found yourself on the ground, in a similar position as Dean, a feet across him and just then you heard a flutter of wings on your side.

\+ + +  
\+ + +  
"Bobby, what do you mean ‘Adam is gone’?”  
“Should I say it in Spanish?”  
“They’re gone how?” Sam tried to keep himself calm in the situation being thrown at him all at once. His brother escaped, Cas was blown off somewhere else, you were nowhere to be found his half brother disappeared out of thin air. The younger Winchester paced around the floor as he ran his fingers through his hair as he tried not to lash out at the man for what he couldn’t control. But he accidentally thrown out a question. “What the hell, Bobby?! You shouldn’t have let him walk out like that!”  
“Watch your tone, boy.” Bobby warned the younger man when Sam dare try to raise his voice at him. “He was right in front of me, and then he disappeared out from thin air.”  
“He’s not here because the angels took them.”  
The two hunters quickly looked over at the other side of the library to figure out where the other voice coming from. Sam could feel himself letting out the slightest sigh of relief at the sight of you and his brother back with Cas, but he was unconscious, not to mention, bloody and battered. The younger Winchester furrowed his brow and asked what happened as Cas carelessly tossed Dean’s body to the empty cot to rest.  
“Y/N happened.” He adjusted his shoulders after carrying the man’s weight.   
“What the hell do you mean the angels took them?” Bobby asked. “You branded his ribs, didn’t you?”  
“Yes. It must have been Adam.” Cas said. He thought to himself for a moment about how this could have happened, Bobby wondered himself when he asked. “I don’t know. Maybe in a dream.”  
“Well, where have they taken them?” Sam asked, hopeful the angel might have an idea. “It can’t be crazy far, right?”  
Cas fell silent as he tried to figure out where his fellow brother would stash Adam. He suddenly remembered the year before, right before Lucifer was set free, you and Dean had been swiped away from Bobby’s house, and to a special room. Sam and Bobby blinked, only to see the angel disappeared from their sight. Sam clenched his jaw in frustration and looked down at his brother. He could only hope this wouldn’t end up in a disaster.  
\+ + +  
Dean Winchester woke up to his entire body feeling like it was in pain and one of his wrists cuff to a bed. The man slowly adjusted himself back into consciousness and looked around at his surroundings to see that he was cuffed to the bed in the panic room. Dean winced slightly as he pushed himself to a sitting position the best way that he could, but making sure not to move from the pain that shot through his body. He took a moment and try to reduce the headache that was starting to settle in his head, not realizing that he had company.  
“How you feeling?”  
“Word to the wise, don’t piss off the Y/N.” Dean said. He remembered what you had said back in the alley while you beat him up. "So, how’s it going?”  
“Adam’s gone.” Sam broke the news to his brother, “The angels have him.”  
“Where?” Dean asked.  
“The room where they took you and Y/N. Cas and her did a recon.” Sam explained the information that he had been gathering over the past few hours while his brother was unconscious. “And the place is crawling with mooks—pretty much no-shot-in-hell, hail-Mary kind of thing.”  
“Ah, the usual.” Dean muttered underneath his breath. He looked around the room for a moment when he realized there was no way he could help. Not the way he wanted it to. “What are you gonna do?”  
“For starters…we’re bringing you with.” Sam said. He pushed himself up from the chair that he had been sitting in and headed over to his brother. Shoving the key into the lock of the handcuffs, it only took a simple turn before Dean was free. The older Winchester willingly took back his free wrist and began to wonder if his brother was being stupid. “There are too many of them. We can’t do it alone, and you’re pretty much the only game in town.”  
“Isn’t that a bad idea?” Dean asked, he watched as his little brother tossed the key to the desk and sat himself down on the edge.   
“It’s not my idea. It’s hers” Sam shrugged, as he nodded in the direction of the door from where you walked in.  
“Cas, Sam and Bobby think it’s a bad idea.”  
“Well, they’re right. Because either it’s a trap to get us there and make me say yes, or it’s not a trap and I’m gonna say yes anyway. And I will. I’ll do it—fair warning.”  
“No, you won’t.” You said.  
Dean looked at you for a moment, not so sure why you were putting so much confidence in the man right after you’d shown him how much he’d disappointed you. He had clearly stated that he was willingly ready to put his life on the line and push for the apocalypse. “You know, if tables were turned…I’d let you rot in here.” Dean said. “Hell, I have let you rot in here.” He said, turning to his brother.  
“Yeah, well…I guess I trust Y/N.” Sam said, shrugging his shoulders.  
“I don’t get it.” Dean muttered, knowing there was something else that you weren’t saying. “Y/N, why are you still doing this?”  
“Because,” you took a slight pause, “I know I might mean nothing to you but you mean a great deal to me… both of you.”


	27. Point of No Return part 3

“Where the hell are we?”  
“Van Nuys, California.”  
Dean looked around to see it was a sunny afternoon with not a single cloud in the sky. But then he started to take notice that you three were being led down a path of some old abandoned building. He looked ahead and asked Cas where the beautiful room he was in before, the angel nodded his head to the building they were approaching. Dean furrowed his brow to see the warehouse looked to be an abandoned building that hadn’t been touched in years.  
“The beautiful room is an abandoned muffler factory in Van Nuys, California?” Dean asked.  
“Where’d you think it was?” Cas asked, slowly approaching the worn out and graffitied wooden doors that would lead you and the boys directly to the room.  
“I don’t know. Jupiter? A blade of grass?” Dean tried to make a guess of possible locations the angels would hide their special room for VIPs only. “Not Van Nuys.”  
“Tell me again why you don’t just grab Adam and shazam the hell out of there.” Sam said, changing the conversation to what had been bugging him about this plan that Cas hadn’t talked much about.  
“Because there are at least five angels in there.” Cas said.  
“So?” Dean asked, not sure what the problem was. “You’re fast.”  
“They’re faster.” Cas answered with the truth. He looked around to see most of the area was still clear as he undid his tie, letting it slip off his neck and bunched in his hands. “I’ll clear them out. You three grab the boy. This is our only chance.”  
“Whoa, wait.” Dean stopped the angel from barging in there without a single weapon to protect himself for what he was about to do. “You’re gonna take on five angels? Isn’t that suicide?”  
“Maybe it is. But then I won’t have to watch you fail.” Cas said. Dean’s face fell from the words that weren’t meant to be harsh, it was just the truth of the situation that the angel had come to terms with. “I’m sorry, Dean. I don’t have the same faith in you that Y/N does.”  
Cas reached inside the pocket of his trenchcoat and pulled out what appeared to be a box cutter as he pushed it so the blade was in full view. Sam furrowed his brow in concern, wondering how that could be useful for a fight against five angels. “What the hell are you gonna do with that?”  
\+ + +  
Dean didn’t like this plan when Cas explained what the box cutter was for, but he knew there was no way out of this except going this route. You were told to wait fifteen minutes after the angel stepped inside the warehouse before coming in, that’s when the place should be cleared out. But it only been five minutes and the entire building was eerily silent, showing no signs of occupancy. Dean quietly opened up the door and stepped inside to inspect the damage of what Cas had done.  
The noises that followed after were the echoes of his previous actions and his footsteps across the concrete floor. Every move you made, you made sure to keep a lookout for any pesky angels, but to your surprise, the journey to the small shack in the middle of the room remained empty. Dean inhaled a deep breath and turned his attention to the important thing on his mind. He stared at the door knob with resistance. What if he was too late? His entire head filled with doubt. But that’s exactly what they wanted. Get him down on his knees and make him fear the worst. Dean stretched his fingers and forced himself to open the door.  
A bright light flooded the warehouse when Dean stepped inside to the shack, but he had found himself pulled into another room that was all too familiar for him from the interior. But what was different from the last time he was here was little droplet of something red on the floor, almost like a trail that was trying to lead him somewhere. Dean followed the spots across the room, all while taking notice they were getting a bit larger. His eyes wandered to the sight of his half brother leaning against the wall, mouth and hands stained with blood. Dean noticed not even a second later Adam looked like he had been through a bit of hell. He quickly raced across the room and dropped himself down to a crouching level to make sure he was okay.  
“Adam. Hey, hey.” Dean grabbed the younger man’s attention, shaking him lightly to wake him from unconsciousness. Adam woke up with a bit of a fright, but he seemed somewhat all right, but Dean had little time to make sure there was any long term effects.   
“You came for me.” He whispered.   
“Of course I did. You’re family. And you would do the same for us.” Dean said. Adam managed to get himself up to a standing position without much help. He was in pain, but he managed to say that all of this was a trap.   
"Dean, please.” The oldest Winchester stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed Zachariah had come out from whatever hole he crawled out of. His lips stretched into an amused smirk at the sight of Dean trying to play hero to his brother. “Did you really think it would be that easy?”  
“Did you?” Dean asked.  
You weren’t stupid. You weren’t going to step inside here without a game plan. Dean’s eyes averted away from the angel to see you come up from behind with the blade that could kill angels. And while you had been swift, sneaking up on something like Zachariah was near impossible, he saw the move coming before they even figured it out. Without breaking a sweat, Zachariah turned around just in time to grab the you by the wrist and take the blade out of your hands. Dean and Sam both called out your name in a rage of panic when he saw you go flying across the room, and soon enough, Sam was right next to you similarly thrown. Zachariah rolled his eyes from the oldest Winchester getting occupied on factors that wouldn’t matter soon.  
“You know what I’ve learned from this experience, Dean?” Zachariah asked the Winchester, as if he really wanted to hear his response. “Patience. And knowing where to push the right buttons.”  
You could feel overwhelming pain in your whole body from whatever Zachariah was doing to you. The angel, however, watched the sight of you and Sam suffering and Dean squirming like it was the best thing he ever seen. With the squeeze of his hand, you felt the pain become worse.  
“Let them go, you son of a bitch.” Dean ordered at the angel, but he was listening, Zachariah was caught up in his own narcissism to care about the man’s feelings.  
“I mean, I thought I was downsized for sure, and for us, a firing—pretty damn literal. But I should have trusted the boss man. It’s all playing out like he said…you me, your hemorrhaging brothers and your little not-so-mystery anymore girl. How do we like the idea of her choking on her own blood? But never quite getting there?” Zachariah had Dean exactly where he wanted him. Sam and Adam were leaned over on the ground, coughing up blood from the pain they were going through. Your hands clenched into fists as your body was overcome with panic. You tried your hardest to breathe, but it was the feeling again, like you were drowning. You forced yourself to think this through logically, but your mind wouldn’t let you. “You’re finally ready, right? You see things our way. You know there’s no other choice. There’s never been a choice.”  
“Stop it.” Dean whispered. His hands trembled as he looked at his baby brother, all before his gaze fell on you. He could feel tears starting to form in his eyes from the lack of control he had. They knew his weakness. And they were playing him exactly how they wanted. “Stop it right now!”  
“In exchange for what?” The angel asked.  
“Damn it, Zachariah. Stop it, please.” Dean pleaded one last time, hoping the vulnerability in his voice would be enough to make Zachariah change his mind. The oldest Winchester could feel his fingernails dig into his skin. “I’ll do it.”  
“I’m sorry.” Zachariah said, he cupped his ear to hear a bit better. “What was that?”  
“Okay, yes.” The oldest Winchester spoke the words louder, Zachariah wanted to make sure you and Sam heard the man clearly. You could feel your fists beginning to loosen as you stared at him, a look of betrayal settled into your expression. “The answer is yes.”  
“Do you hear me? Call Michael down, you bastard!” Dean yelled so everyone in the room could hear what he was about to do. You stared at him with an anger settling into your eyes that he’d never seen before. The man looked away, trying his hardest not to let his emotions get the best of him for what he was doing. At this point of the game, Dean was losing, and he didn’t know what to do anymore. Zachariah, however, wasn’t falling for this little trick.  
The angel’s eyes narrowed down on the man, suspicious of what he might be up to. “How do I know you’re not lying?”  
“Does it look like I’m lying?” Dean questioned the angel.  
Zachariah could see what was standing in front of him was a broken man beyond damage. He knew there was no more of a fight in the oldest Winchester, because he knew there was no way out of this. The angel felt like a kid on Christmas. He turned around in his spot on the floor, his back turned to the four of you, he began to chant something in enochian that sounded roughly familiar to a summoning spell Cas had used to get Raphael’s attention. Dean looked away from the angel and to a spot on the floor, wondering if this was the right move. What else was he supposed to do. He was backed in the corner…  
He looked down to see that you were staring at him with all different sorts of emotion. Sadness, anger, frustration, betrayal. But one thing was clear from your facial expression, you were disappointed in him.   
Dean thought about what you had said. And just like that, something began to change inside his head. Dean thought back to what you had said to him when he ran off.   
Dean looked over at you again, his saddened expression began to slowly change, and with Zachariah lost in his own trance, the man’s mood changed. You watched as the ends of Dean’s lips began to slowly quiver up—into a smirk. And for an added effect, he gave you a wink. The man was like a snake. He slithered out of his skin and shredded off his old self, giving you a new and improved version from the way he acted next.  
“Of course, I have a few conditions.” The oldest Winchester spoke up, his voice was now calm as he took Zachariah by surprise. The room began to slowly shake, signalling that he had little time to get this plan going before he was gonna regret this. “A few people whose safety you have to guarantee before I say yes.”  
“Sure, fine.” Zachariah said. “Make a list.”  
“But most of all…Michael can’t have me until he disintegrates you.” Dean stated his demands. The angel looked at the man with a bit of a confused look, wondering what had just come out from his mouth. “I said—Before Michael gets one piece of this sweet ass, he has to turn you into a piece of charcoal.”  
Zachariah let out a nervous sounding chuckle, “You really think Michael’s gonna go for that?”  
“Who’s more important to him now? You…” Dean questioned the angel. “Or me?”  
Zachariah lunged forward at what he heard Dean say. He grabbed ahold of the man by the collar of his jacket, he shook him slightly, a scoff falling out from his mouth at how a human, no less, was trying to make him feel inferior. “You listen to me. You are nothing but a maggot inside of a worm’s ass. Do you know who I am…” The angel shook Dean slightly, trying to strike fear into the man, but it only made Dean grow a smirk. “After I deliver you to Michael?”  
“Expendable.” Dean answered.  
“Michael’s not gonna kill me.” Zachariah said with a matter-of-fact voice.  
“Maybe not.” Dean agreed. Your eyes wandered down to the blade he had hidden up his sleeve, quite in the literal sense. A small smile spread across your lips at what was happening. Even with the room starting to shake violently all around you, he still managed to pull through and save the day like how you wanted him to. “But I am.”  
Dean shoved the blade straight through Zachariah’s throat, the stunt took everyone by surprise, yourself included, but you were thrown out from your thoughts when you realized you were about to see an angel get killed. You quickly shielded your and Sam’s eyes by lunging forward in front of im. Dean was thrown back against the wall as Zachariah fell to the ground, a single trickle of blood escaped his wound from where the man had stabbed him. Slowly, you opened your eyes, Sam’s elated expression the first thing your mind registered, while you felt the air in your lungs come back and the force that the angel had on you lifted, your eyes wandered to what was burned in the floor. You noticed what appeared to be two wings on the floor, you furrowed your brow, wondering if that’s what happened to all angels. But you weren’t going to get your answer today. You had company.  
Michael was coming again. You forced yourself to stand on your hands and knees. While the air had come back to your lungs, you had felt it near impossible to move, what Zachariah had done to you made an impact on your body for days to come. Dean got himself back to the situation as he helped Adam up to his feet, while the younger man slowly got up.   
You reached out your hand to help Sam up from the ground, you and Dean worked together in helping one another out the front door to freedom. You honestly didn’t know what you were expecting when you got out from the room. But a warehouse wasn’t that. You managed to steady yourself on your feet when the boys attempted to go back and save their brother. But it was too late. The door slammed shut. Dean tried to reach out and open the door, but something was making it burning hot, just letting his hand over it was too much for him to handle. The three of you watched as the light coming from inside the shack you came out from slowly died away, leaving nothing but a darkness your eyes soon adjusted back to.  
Dean didn’t waste a second when the door handle went back to being cold to open up the door. You honestly weren’t sure what to expect when he stepped inside the shack. But you could feel a sense of guilt weigh heavy on your conscious when the oldest Winchester stumbled to what appeared to be an abandoned office that looked like it hadn’t seen any human contact in a long, long time.  
\+ + +  
You were making your drive back to Souix Falls which was half day drive so you decided to take a little break on the side of a highway. The troubling news that followed in the car ride back was that Cas was gone. Cas had gotten the stupid idea to carve the sigil that sent away all angels into his skin—making it so that the angels were blown to another part of the universe, himself included. And Adam. Poor Adam. But you had to hold on to the fact that you and the brothers were safe, for now, at least.  
You leaned yourself against the side of the Impala while Sam was a couple feet away on call with Bobby, and gave Dean a small smile. Your eyes wandered to the cut he had on his lip for a moment to the gash on his cheek that was starting to heal. “You think Adam’s okay?”  
“Doubt it. Cas either.” Dean said. You looked down at the ground and nodded your head. While you were expecting to hear the man say something about how this was his fault, you quickly looked up at him to see that he sounded positive. “But we’ll get ‘em.”  
You bit a small part of your lip and listened to his words. For the first time in a long time, you can believe his words, he seemed more positive than he had in a long time. But you couldn’t help yourself at lingering back to what happened. “So,” You began. Dean raised a brow as he leaned himself right next to you, curious to hear what you were going to say. “I saw your eyes. You were totally rockin’ the yes back there. What changed your mind?”  
Dean fell silent from your question. He let out a quiet sigh as he looked around the place, wondering how the hell he was going to explain himself after what he had said over the past few days. But you had every right to hear the truth.  
“Honestly? The damnest thing. I mean, the world’s ending, the walls are coming down on us, and all I know is that you’re the reason why I’m standing in that room. I look over to you and all I can think about is, ‘This stupid girl brought me here.’” He said. You could feel yourself growing a smile from what you heard. Dean crossed his arms over his chest as his eyes began to slowly dart around the road ahead. He was growing a bit guilty, but he didn’t want to apologize just yet. He was afraid you still were harboring anger towards him. “I just didn’t want to let you or Sam down. Not after what the two of you’ve done for me.”  
“You didn’t.” You said. “You almost did. But you didn’t.”  
“I owe you an apology, Y/N.” Dean said. You furrowed your brow and began to shake your head, trying to say that it wasn’t important, But the man wanted to. “Just…let me say this. The reason I didn’t say goodbye to you wasn’t that I didn’t want to. I didn’t say goodbye because I couldn’t. Because I knew if I sat down to write everything I wanted to say to you before … going, I wouldn’t be able to find the right words. And to be honest, I didn’t want to say anything I shouldn’t.”  
You were happy that you were getting an explanation to why he left you off the farewell tour but you were still confused by what he was trying to say.   
“What do you mean, Dean? What could you possibly say to me that you shouldn’t?”  
For a second, Dean looked into your eyes and you swore you could see that he was going to say it but for some reason, decided against it, “Just that… you were wrong. You don’t mean nothing, Y/N, you mean too much to me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Remember to let me know what you think of it. Feedback helps me write better and like, honestly, I need the validation. Okay thanks


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